A Series of Unrelated Events
by Danigirl32
Summary: 20 AU/AR shorts featuring the characters of General Hospital.
1. All This Woman Needs

**Using the 20 Master plots for writers and the Weekly challenge words over on SFF, I'll be writing 20 short fics for General Hospital. Some couples will be canon, while others are some that I've created. There will be OC characters as well. Some of the shorts will probably be worked into full length stories in the future.**

**Number 4: _Siorruidh_ featuring JaSam is already posted here under the title of Alternate Realities: A JaSam collective**

**Number15: _Blood Bonds_ is posted on my board Tell Me A Story (TMAS) and won't be posted here due to site guidelines. The Link to TMAS is in my profile if you're interested.**

**Number 14: _Love You In Me_ featuring JaSam will also be posted only on TMAS due to content. It will be up soon.**

**Hope you like.**

**Summary: 20 nonrelated AU/AR shorts involving the characters of GH. **

**Plot and Week #17:** Discovery tears, deserve, fate  
Couple: Logan Hayes & Regina Thompson

Rated: R (language)

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them.

_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
**_

_**All This Woman Needs**_

_To know you're there for me, unconditionally, is all this woman needs. - Rissi Palmer_

Winter swept into Port Charles early this year with all the vengence of a woman scorned and carrying a sharp pair of scissors aimed for the more delicate area of a man's anatomy. Temperatures stayed frozen several degrees below zero, with the wind chill factor cold enough to freeze the tears the harsh torents whipped from a travelers eyes almost before the wetness could slip down. The weather forcast snow tonight to join the harsh temperatures and the foot of the stuff already blanketing everything as far as the eye could see.

"Looks like a damned blizzard to me," Logan Hayes muttered as he watched the near white out from the kitchen window. As he dropped the curtain, he was already taking mental calculations of things to check before heading up for the night.

Decembers at the little Inn situatated several miles out of the city was rather lonely, most people choosing to visit family and friends rather than sneaking off for a small vacation. He didn't mind. It wasn't like he enjoyed visitors anyway. That was his sister Serena's department. Most of his time was spent making sure Baldwin Corners ran smoothly and none of the guests had reason to nag at him.

After five years he figured he had it down to a science.

When he first arrived in Port Charles, he had been trouble waiting to happen. Dishonorable discharge from the service, getting mixed up with the criminal elements of the city and worst of all butting heads with the father who had abandoned him and his mother before he was born. He wasn't proud of the things he'd done, or the people he hurt during that time and it had taken almost getting killed before he finally hit rock bottom and decided to change.

He might be a stubborn bastard but a bullet in the chest was more than enough of a wake-up call.

Trapped on his back in a hospital bed with no visitors gave him plenty of time to think and re-evaluate his life. Then a miracle walked in. His little sister. He had been more than prepared to turn her and her little olive branch of acceptance away in anger. This was the child that Scott Baldwin wanted and loved. The result of his great love with Dominique Devearaux and friendship with Lucy Coe. The miracle child. He was just the mistake best forgotten.

Even as he took in the tawny hair clustered in short curls around a heart shaped face and warm hazel blue eyes with sweeping lashes that were an exact copy of his, he was ready to push her away. He hadn't counted on her being just as ornery. That, she told him with a Baldwin smirk mirroring his own, was a family trait.

Serena didn't try to worm her way into his life. No, instead she bull dozed any walls he tried to build to resist her. She dragged him kicking and screaming into the Baldwin fold, giving him a family in the process. The afternoon at his Grandparents house for Sunday dinner when he finally realized what she had accomplished, he could only glare at his father as the idiot chuckled at his discomfiture. It seemed Serena Baldwin had the entire family wrapped around her fingers.

Opening the Inn was his Grandparents idea, when they realized how much he was floundering. Serena was already taking business classes in college and looking for something to do with her inheritance. While he was struggling to find some kind of employment that would overlook his sketchy arrest record and marred miliatry background. His family had stood firmly in his corner as he walked shakily out on a limb on a prayer and the sweat of his brow.

Baldwin Corners might not be five star luxury like the Metro Court Hotel owned by the Jacks but it just fine for those middle class and blue collar families he could identify with who were looking for a nice getaway for a special anniversary or a family vacation.

Baldwin Corners had prospered and he was grateful.

Logan heard the scrambling footsteps long before they reached the kitchen and was still surprised by the small ache in his chest the sound inspired. Hands slapped on the swinging door, revealing first the puppy rescued from the humane society, a mixed breed with a auburn coat, floppy ears and large paws that promised he would be huge. Then the four year old who looked so much like he did at that age. A long narrow face with curious Baldwin eyes, and a smiling mouth. Tall for his age and whip cord sharp.

Along with the tug to his heart was the residual anger of how Kyder's mother had shown up at the Inn early one morning with his six month old son and shoved the baby into his arms claiming that it was his turn.

His turn at what? Until he had opened the door, Logan hadn't known the infant existed. He barely recalled the bleach blonde from a blur of alcohol affected memories. Angie, she reminded him angrily. From Jake's. And he remembered the night he went on a binge after breaking up with Lulu Spencer. With a wince, the mental image of himself crawling out of the bed with a world class hangover from next to a woman who probably had looked enough like Lulu while under the influence.

Angie didn't have time to be tied down with a baby that she neither wanted nor asked for. So it was his turn. She had dropped the dirty diaper bag onto the floor that carried everything the baby owned and walked away.

Logan still had moments of pure rage at how carelessly she had tossed their son aside and how throughly she had severed ties with him. Even going so far as to leave town to avoid resposiblity. For hours he could only stare at the sleeping infant in shock, wondering if this was perhaps how his mother felt when he was born. Stunned at the magnitude of the duty he faced. Ashamed that he had almost neglected the child he played a part in creating.

Helpless.

Terrified.

He hadn't even known his son's name. It wasn't the first time, but he was definitely grateful that fate had brought Serena Baldwin to his hospital room that afternoon because the first phone call he made was to the family he hadn't realized he loved so much.

Gail taught him how to change a diaper. Taught him patience. Serena reminded to play with his son and Scott? Well, Scott showed him all the things _not _to do.

Weeks passed as he cared for the boy, shuffling work at the Inn and late nights with a screaming baby. Until one beautiful spring morning as he stood in front of his bedroom window giving his son a bottle and watching the garden his Grandmother had helped plant into front of the Inn begin to bloom. Until he looked down at Kyder Baldwin Hayes' face and realized how desperately in love with his son he was.

"Daddy!" Out of breath and vibrating with excitement, Logan swept him up onto his hip with an ease that came from years of practice, all the while ignoring his partner in crime nipping at his heels.

"Kyder," he admonished with the lift of a brow, "What did I tell you about running inside?"

The childish face cleared briefly in consideration, then as if realizing he would probably be punished for breaking this number one rule his father always reminded him about, Kyder lay his head on his shoulder giving a wide sheepish grin. "Not to do it?"

"So would you like to tell me why you're running then?"

"Um, 'cause it's portant?"

"_Im_portant?" He corrected mildly, "And what's so important that you're running in the Inn?"

"The car that slid into Granma Gail's fence."

_**XXooXX**_

Regina Thompson was a woman on a mission.

All of her friends, had they seen that look of determination, would have predicted disaster would soon follow. She would have snarled angrily at them all. This time would be different, she swore silently to herself. The impulse to bury herself away so that she could plot the next course of her life couldn't possibly be a mistake, no matter how many times Nadine and Layla told her differently.

It was going to be an adventure, she told herself doggedly.

Sure, going through her meager savings she had worked hard as a nurse at GH to accumulate might be a bad idea. If things started looking too bad, she could cut a few corners. It wasn't like she hadn't done so before. She could turn off unnecessary lights while at home. Besides after working her shift, it wasn't like she wanted to do more than shower and fall asleep anyway. The thermostat could be turned down to sixty five instead of the usual seventy two degrees. She would simply wear a sweater when she managed to make it home from the hospital.

There were all kinds of ways she could replace the two thousand dollars she removed from her savings account. Even if she had to eat toast for breakfast, skip lunch and have soup for dinner. It was winter. Campbell's Chicken Noodle would hit the spot.

Besides, she needed this break. Her nerves were frayed, she was exhausted making stupid mistakes and being reprimanded one more time by Epiphany would go on her record. The last thing she needed was the Chief of Staff coming down on her again. Layla had mentioned Baldwin Corners as an inexpensive vacation spot where her former on again off again and finally finished again Patrick Drake had taken her during one of their brief on moments. Secluded, yet homey, it was a perfect place for peace and quiet.

Regina used her break to do a quick internet search, took one look at the scenic pictures on the site and made the decision to use her Chrismas time off instead of passing it on to one of the nurses with families.

Besides, even broke, her life couldn't get much worse.

The first sign of trouble appeared two weeks before when the plumming in the expensive brownstone where she lived went nuts. She didn't have water, couldn't flush the toilet and the landlord had shrugged all of it off, mumbling about septic problems.

Nadine, oh wonderful friend that she was, mentioned something about trouble traveling in threes. Regina waved her off, smirking about superstitions.

Seeing that the landlord was going to take his sweet time, she moved in, temporarily, with her boyfriend. Christopher had been a rare find. An EMT who worked just as many hours as she did and understood that her career came first. Chris was her first venture back into the world of relationships after the last one that had ended rather disasterously. An unplanned pregnancy, a broken relationship with her Grandmother, the last of her family and an abortion that still could catch her heart was more than enough incentive to give men a wide berth.

After graduating the nursing program at GH and finally establishing herself as a efficient and trustworthy nurse, the nights alone eventually caught up to her. It was okay going out with girlfriends but even she liked the comfort of a strong pair of arms occasionally. Being alone was different than being lonely. After several more months of guilt and uncertainty, she finally took a leap of faith and ventured back out into the dating pool.

Chris was exactly what she thought she needed. Kind, generous and certainly attractive. If he didn't make her heart skip a beat or send butterflies fluttering in her belly, it meant she was thinking with a clear head and not jumping in blindly. He didn't push for sex that she wasn't ready for and soon six months passed and they were doing just fine. He was very understanding about her landlord difficulties. "Don't worry about it Gina," he told her, "It's no problem."

Of course she worried. The duplex ate up an entire paycheck in rent and she couldn't even live there! Unfortunately there wasn't much she could do, so taking Chris's advice was for the best, though Nadine's words of doom were secretly wrecking havoc with her subconscious.

Walking in on Christopher and his partner and best friend Eric in bed togther after working the nightshift in the ER for three days straight merely capped off a shitty week from hell. Being asked if she could move out now that he and Eric finally commited to their new relationship had actally been pretty funny.

And a Happy Holidays to you too. Bastard.

"An adventure," Regina glared at the fence and snow out the windshield. "I suppose this is Nadine's three. I'm going to kill her when I get back," she vowed.

The weather that morning was fine before she left for work. She didn't have a chance to listen to the forecast but despite the cold, the sunny skies had promised her drive out later in the evening should face no difficulties. It certainly seemed that way forty five minutes in.

By the time the snow had thickened so badly that she could barely see out of the window, and she turned off her IPod to listen to the radio, she was more than half way to the Inn. It would make more sense to continue forward than to turn around and try to head back to Port Charles.

Fifteen feet away from the entrance and Nadine's curse struck. Sending the thread bare tires on her Dodge Neon into a slide, controlled only with sheer will, into a large white fence. Heart slamming viciously against her chest, she pounded her fists against the steering wheel. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

The sob she hadn't known was locked in her throat broke free as her vision blurred with tears. "What did I do to deserve this?"

_**XXooXX**_

By the time Logan snatched on his coat and boots, sat Kyder down in the lobby area with his dog and a promise not to move a muscle, fear had inched down his spine. Serena was back in Port Charles with the rest of the family for the weekend and while the Inn had no reservations, the occasional drop in wasn't unheard of. Yet with this blizzard, a person would have to be desperate or insane to be out tonight.

If anyone was injured he would have to bundle them all up and ride for help in one of the snowmoblies. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Snow slapped viciously at his face and wet his hair as he trugged through a snow drift. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes, he could make out someone bent over the steering wheel. "Oh, shit." By the time he hopped it to the car his heart was racing, hands shivering from the cold. "Hey, you okay in there?" His fist beat on the side window, getting no response. Wiping a hand across the glass, he could see whoever was inside was female. "Hey! Can you hear me? Are you okay in there?"

After a few more seconds, he watched a hand reach out, then the mechanical slide of the window lowering and the burst of warmth against his face was welcome. "Are you okay?"

What struck him first wasn't her looks. Not that she wasn't something, because man was she beautiful. Thick hair fell in disarray about a black lambskin coat, warm toffee tinted skin and a full mouth made to tempt a man. There was both delicacy and strength in her face, dark compelling eyes that betrayed everything. Her fear, the gleam of tears, and pain that was more than physical. Soul deep, his mother would have called it. And it called to him, reached inside to place he hadn't realized was there waiting and drew him in like a magnet.

"I'm fine." Her voice was husky with emotion, the tension around her hands gripping the steering wheel and knuckles betraying her words. His gaze carefully appraised her, making sure she wasn't injured and he wouldn't be needing medical assistance. "Look, I'm a nurse. I'm okay. My car just slid a bit that's all."

"Slid a bit into the fence," he shot back sarcastically.

"I'll pay for-"

"Don't worry about it," he interruped, feeling like an ass. She was probably scared to death and he was making bad jokes. "All that matters is that you're okay. In case you hadn't realized, it's a blizzard out. What possessed you to get on the road tonight?"

"Long story. Which I will happily tell you inside where it's warm and hopefully in front of warm fire and a cup of coffee," she sighed, finally releasing her hands only to drag them across her face to shove all that lush hair back away from her face. "This is Baldwin Corners right? Tell me I found the right place."

"This is Baldwin Corners, it seems luck was on your side tonight." Her mouth curved, revealing a cute set of dimples. She couldn't seem to help herself as it trembled into low throaty laughter.

"I guess that means Nadine's curse is broken."

"Curse?"

"About bad luck traveling in threes," she managed through her amusement.

"Well, my Mama said that good luck traveled in threes too."

She wiped a hand across her face, her smile filled with warmth, inclining her head in acknowledgement, "Well, I guess you're the beginning of my good luck."

_Fin_


	2. The Valkyrie

**Plot and Week#9:** Underdog smoke, tender, ring  
**Couple:** Jason and Carly

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**_

_**The Valkyrie**_

_"In the Heroic lays, however, the valkyries are described as bands of warrior-women only the leader of whom is ever named. She is invariably a human woman, the beautiful daughter of a great king, though she shares some of the supernatural abilities of her anonymous companions."  
-Valkyrie, Winikepedia_

"It is the end of an era. The end of the Spencers."

Caroline Spencer in the entrance of her lodge overlooking the remaining warriors under her command. Wisps of smoke still rose from dying cook fires, while the muted sounds of laughter from children as they were called in for bed. Next to her was her youngest cousin, Leslie Lu, second in command as well as her confidant. As commander of of the Spencer army, she didn't know if she should be proud of the women who fought and died for her or ashamed at how much she had failed them.

Over the years she had perfected the art of combat after the death of her mother and at the age of sixteen she was forced into leadership and a clan war that had existed for decades.

"Those barbarians don't know the meaning of peace and they will continue to rape and ravage these lands until every last one of us has been slaughtered."

Cold truth, yet she hated hearing those bitter words coming from her Lulu. A mere eighteen summers had passed since she had helped her mother during her aunt Laura's birthing and all the little one had known was war and death. She had taken Lulu to her side as more of a sister than cousin and would forever recall the head of flaxen hair blowing in a warm breeze as the precocious child trailed after her. She placed a bow in Lulu's hand first, guided her in the ways of a warrior. Now Lulu was as fierce as any Spencer woman and just as feared by their enemy.

If only the child's life could have been different. All of their lives different, she sighed with regret.

"This war has been waging for so many years and yet I fear it will soon end," she murmured. A gust of wind brushed against her face and on it's wing she could smell death, it's ominous claws extending across the Spencer lands even now as they fought so stridently against the inevitable.

"We still have a chance," Lulu insisted and she couldn't help the wry grin. A fighter till the very end, it was all they could ever do.

They were warriors. The strength of their blade, the accuracy of their arrows, the sweat of their brow and the very determination buring in their hearts would stand them in good stead. Yet the sheer number of their enemy would be their downfall. She would not be a good leader if she hid behind optimism and naivety when leading her warriors out onto the battle field.

If the Spencers would die, then they would fall with such a noise that their enemy would respect their name.

"Come dawn, we shall see if the gods will grant us that chance." A low clearing of throat before opening the flap at the entrance of her lodge halted Lulu's reponse. "You may enter."

And there were the eyes she needed to see most of all. They burned a savage cereulean fire, so rare in the men among her people. Yet, weren't there so many things about Jason that isolated him from the rest. In his stilted posture and tension running along his jaw, she could see he was furious about something. His gaze flickered away from Lulu, to the chakrams that were always looped at her waist, then searched her face as if reaching into her very thoughts to probe the depths of her soul. What he found tightened a line of his generous mouth.

"How long were you standing outside?"

"Long enough," the edge to his voice unmistakeable. Only Jason would dare show his displeasure in her presence. "If I might have a word alone, my lady?"

Lulu's afronted gaze snapped in her direction but Caroline inclined her head, waving her away. Jason would have his moment regardless of Lulu's presence. Her cousin looked to argue but it took a mere lift of brow for her to reconsider. By tacit conset, she stormed away, the swish of leather breeches and slap of her bow against her back proof of her anger. She paused to sneer at Jason then rolled her eyes and stormed out.

"Forgive Lulu," Caroline began with a heavy sigh, "She was more angry with the interruption than with you. Or rather with me, I should say."

Now that they were alone, she could look at him to her hearts content. In her many winters of life, no man had ever caught her attention much to her people's dismay. As heir, she was required to marry and produce offspring. Many of the council claimed she was too proud, too head strong and that's why she still remained unmatched.

Yet the men paraded before her had only turned her stomach. Weak. Complacent. How could she be expected to wed, let alone bed any of them. Their matriachal rule hadn't made their men subservient but so many feared her they seemed mere children and stirred no challenge nor longing.

Until Jason.

Jason with a warrior's build and a healer's heart. A shaman. Even now after years in her village, he wore the heavy garb of his station, opened to reveal the powerful chest taut with muscle and long sinwey legs covered in buckskin. He was not born among their people but captured from a neighboring tribe and kept slave until his abilities were discovered. He had saved their Queen then earned his freedom. And her respect.

The mere sight of him inspired a terrible wanting and it had from the very first moment she had watched him growl with fury at one of her warriors, though he was bound and surrounded.

"I didn't think I would see you. I thought you were still angry with me."

_**XXooXX**_

Jason looked at the woman he loved. The woman who, had their circumstances been different, would already be his wife and her finger would bear his ring instead of being worn on a chain around her neck. Together they would have sired cherished children. Boys, healers, to take their place and learn at his knee. Girls, warriors, strong and brave like their mother.

Her visage was deceptive. Primrose locks feathered softly around a regal face that could be made haughty from the icy chill in her stare or exquiste by the affection in her smile. She had developed a strength and stamina at odds with the slenderness of her body. A determination he had seen her wield on more than one occasion in both word and sword.

Tonight she was every inch a Spencer warrior. Dun colored leather breeches clung to a glorious length of leg to hang low at her waist. The tunic she wore was cropped giving a glimspe of a toned belly but it would easily be covered by her heavy chest plate, studded with various spikes and stained so that she might blend into her surroundings if needed. Bracers would cover her arms over a pair of fingerless leather gloves and her legs on top of knee high boots.

He preferred her in silken red, flowing across her seductive body and begging for a man to caress.

"I've come to ask you to reconsider." And even now, he could see the denial in her frustrated eyes. Not for the first time she turned from him in anger, her fists clenced tight. Yet each time he would ask, no demand, she listen to reason. "You're being stubborn, Carly."

"Tis not fair," she tossed back over her shoulder. It was long enough for him to see the bleak despair in her eyes. "You cannot call me Carly, as you whisper to me in bed, then ask that I send you to your death."

"We all die, beloved. I only ask to die as a man with a sword in my hand and not as a boy cowering in fear."

Her chuckle was dry and bitter, a cynical sound he despised for he could hear the pain behind it. "You've never cowered a day in your life, even when it would have saved your hide. As a slave you spat at your captures, as a free man you walk as though a king. So do not give me that excuse."

"What would you have me do?"

"What you are supposed to! That which you were born to do!" She whirled around, fury making her luminous. "You heal the ones who are injured, bless the ones who have died and by the gods, Jason Morgan you stay alive!" Tears blurred her gaze, "You stay alive! For I cannot bare it if you were taken from this world."

"And stay here, my soul bleeding, while you take my heart with you in death," he whispered with possesive desperation. He stalked forward, jerking her into his arms with fingers biting painfully and desperation and despair twisting in his gut. "I love you! If I cannot fight by yourside, at least let me die with you and with honor."

"No."

"Carly-"

"NO!" She screamed in a shrill voice. "They have taken everything from me, Jason. My mother. My childhood. My family and my people. And very soon, they will probably take my life. Give me this Jason, please. I have never asked anything from you. You have loved me, despite how very little I have been able to give you."

"You gave me your heart, that was more than enough."

As she closed her eyes, a tear spilled forth onto her cheek, her lip trembled. "Don't follow me in death. If you love me, Jason, then give me this. Save as many of my people as you can and do not follow me in death."

"You ask too much of me," he answered tersely and yet he nodded his silent assent. He was not afraid of death, as a shaman he touched death more intimately than most. He knew there was more beyond. Yet he could not pain the woman he loved and he could deny her nothing. If she asked him to live, he would. To save lives, then he would.

"Beloved," he whispered drawing her closer into his embrace, so that he could touch her for these final hours.

Their lips met, tender, the first brush coaxingly sweet and as always taking his breath away. Making his heart sing with love. He rubbed the backs of his fingers across her cheeks, memorizing the silk of her face. The way her smile teased and drew forth a reluctant smile of his own. The way desire simmered to flame in her eyes as he lay above her, between her legs as she welcomed him into the depths of her wet heat.

The caress quickly grew fierce and passionate, the very qualities that he celebrated within his Carly. And she was just as hungry for him, meeting the devouring thrust of his tongue in a mating dance which stirred the fire building between them to smoldering. When he lifted her into his arms, kneeling to the pile of furs, and her fingers thread into his hair pulling close, all that mattered was this moment.

War could wait. Death could wait. He would take his woman and sear the memory of her taste, her touch, her love onto his soul.

Perhaps one day the gods would be kind and reunite them.

_Fin_


	3. To Die For

**Plot and Week #5:** Escape glass, elusive, Christmas  
**Couple: **Lucky Spencer and Robin Scorpio

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like to write about them

_**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**_

_**...To Die For**_

_**"Suddenly so much of me has no need to pretend. There's nothing like the truth, to bring her back to you. And everyone I've met before this, ain't seen me with you."**__  
--Angel, Robin Thicke_

Port Charles.

Home to Kelly's famous chili, mob controlled water fronts, and General Hospital with it's annual Christmas party and where most people went when either suffering from a heart attack...erhm heart burn... from said chili, or gun shot wounds courtesy of the turf wars between the Five Families and the Corinthos regime.

The city voted most likely to be visited by aliens was home to many illustrious families that were more often than not captured in the media for one reason or another. There was the Hardy/Webber clans who were the leading medical minds over at GH. When they weren't backstabbing and committing adultry, the Quartermaines were making a definite bid for top dog in the hospital but were best known for the conglomerate powerhouse ELQ. Faulty batches of condoms aside that is.

The Cassadines were Port Charles' version of royalty, descending from Russian aristocracy, or sociopathic murders who plotted to take over the world. It was very difficult to tell the difference sometimes. And of course the Corleone...wait, that's Corinthos family did their best to mock every Godfather movie ever made.

Last but certainly the most entertaining were the best friend slash rival clans of Spencers and Scorpios. While the Spencers gleefully tip-toed along the edge of the wrong side of the law, the Scorpios took enforcement one step further delving deep into the world of spy games and international intrigue. The Patriarchs of the clans took the adage _'anything you can do I can do better'_ to the extremes with everything from women to saving the world.

The Spencers were currently up one in the score column having diverted the latest Cassadine bid to freeze the planet, yet again.

The friendship between Luke Spencer and Robert Scorpio was passed happily down to their off spring. So the bickering and one ups-manship continued on with the next generation of Lucky Spencer and Robin Scorpio.

When the playful rivalry grew into love, Robin couldn't guess. All she knew was between her duties at the WSB and teasing her best friend she realized none of the men she had dated could measure up to the depth of feelings she had for Lucky Spencer. How could she trust completely when that faith was already given? If she shared her most special dreams with one man, how could she open her heart that way to another?

The warm clench of awareness in her stomach when Lucky enfolded her into his arms was finally understood to be desire and a wish for something more.

Before she could act on those newly discovered feelings, Lucky's ex-girlfriend announced she was carrying his child. Lucky's first born. The new generation of the Spencer family. She knew how important that was to both of their parents, so there was no question what Lucky would do. He and Elizabeth Webber would marry and raise their child in a stable home environment. As stable as a family of Spencers would ever be.

Weeks passed as Robin tortured herself with the vision of Elizabeth's belly swelling with life, as Laura welcomed the expectant mother into their rag tag bunch and eagerly planned the couples upcoming nuptuals. Robin did her duty and stood with her best friend. Even convinced him the marriage was the right thing to do the night before when he showed up on her doorstep with cold feet. Though he and Elizabeth had broken up, there was still affection there. Whatever issues the two of them had could be worked through.

The next morning she put on her best woman's dress, tucked the slender gold wedding band into her white gloves and watched Elizabeth walk down the isle then pledge herself to Lucky. Robin toasted the newlyweds with a glass of champagne, smiled in photographs, and wished Lucky well with his marriage and new family.

The next day she boarded a plane for Cairo with her first active agent mission.

Five years later found her climbing the front porch of the Spencer family home, broken and terrified with no one else to turn to but the only man she had ever trusted.

Her assignement had gone to hell in a handbasket faster than she could say double agent. If she thought her first job was hard, it only proved just how naive she had been working behind a desk as a criminal profiler with the WSB.

Her parents had made the job look easy, exciting even. A little danger, a dash of intrigue and she was fighting the good fight to keep the world safe. Little by little she adapted. The gun once so forgien in her hand became almost an extention of the appendage. Thinking fast and covering her back was now second nature. All those years of living as the child of Anna Devane and Robert Scorpio had ingrained the traits necessary for the job almost down to her DNA.

Except she had broken the number one rule. Never become personally involved with a target. And the arms dealer she had been sent in to infiltrate had left her for dead. The moment he discovered she was alive he would come after her to finish the job properly. And he would find out. She had learned over the past year that Luis Alcazar's tentacles of information had threaded themselves all over the world and into the most unlikely of places.

Even the WSB.

So she ran home to the place where she always felt safe to buy herself some time. To heal. Then she would dive back into the trenches.

"Well look who's home. Hello there little girl."

Robin looked down at the hand that had been raised to ring the doorbell, then back to the welcoming face smiling through the screen. Luke Spencer was still tall and slightly imposing as the same larger than life image imprinted on her brain from childhood. His hair was a wild spike of white around his head now and the smile produced crinkles around his eyes and mouth. Yet despite the years, Luke still looked primed and ready for some wild adventure.

"Luke," she tried for a smile to match his warm greeting and felt it tremble at the edges with fatigue. The flicker of concern in his blue gaze wasn't hidden fast enough and she didn't wonder about what he'd seen to cause it.

She knew what she looked like. The black leather jacket draped over her shoulders wouldn't conceal the dark blue cast that covered her right arm from pinky to elbow. The ankle length denim skirt and leather ankle boots would be a lot harder to remove than they had been to put on due to the heavily bandaged stab wound in her left thigh. She managed to arrange her hair to cover most of the bruises on her face and the dark Gucci sunglasses concealed the black eye.

"It's good to see you."

"Your father called me this morning to let me know you were flying in today," Luke raised a questioning brow.

She left the hospital without proper discharge, so as soon as her guards discovered she was missing of course the first calls would be made to her parents. They would know her first instinct would be to return to Port Charles no matter how long she had been away. Port Charles was home. "Uncle works fast."

Much too tired to bother to hide, she called a connection and arranged to tag along on a military flight that was on it's way up to Virginia. It hadn't been too much trouble to make the stop in Port Charles and a car had been available to drop her off.

Luke opened the door picking up the duffle bag the driver placed at her feet, then stepped to the side so that she could come inside. The house looked much the same, more pictures scattered around, courtesy of Laura no doubt, and it still had the same hearth and home feel that she remembered.

It must drive Luke crazy, she couldn't help chuckle to herself. Her own parents would crash at her Uncle Mac's whenever they were in Port Charles but she chose the Spencer house. Hearing her Mac rant about quitting the job would not be conducive to the healing process.

"You look tired," he finally spoke up after she settled down on the flower print sofa. She had to resist the urge to close her eyes and sink back into the comfort and sleep for weeks.

_'That's what getting beaten and stabbed will do to you,'_ she thought bitterly but instead she answered, "It only hurts when I laugh."

"Laura will want to baby those bruises you got there," he gestured to her face. "Then ply you will a meal or ten."

"I don't want to put her to any trouble," Robin protested.

"You won't be, Lucky and Lulu will be over later so she already had something planned." The last thing she wanted was to try to be friendly. Or see Lucky. She knew it would happen sooner or later, especially staying here at his parents house. Port Charles was a small city, avoiding Lucky until she was ready to move on would have been next to impossible. Here in the Spencer house, merely inevitable.

"How have they been?" She asked more to be polite than truly wanting to know. The last she heard from her mother, Lulu was in college, strangely enough, studying business. Learning how to con people legally, her father had snickered from his end of the three way call. Lucky had a daughter, Ruby, named for his Great Aunt and still played hard, fast and loose with that computer of his.

"Good but you'll see that for yourself in a few hours. So," Luke pulled a silver flask from the inside pocket of his jacket drawing a small chuckle of laughter. Laura would never keep alcohol in the house, so Luke usually carried some at all times. "Your parents see you before you ran back here to good old Port Chuck?"

"Mom's in a little town just outside of Prague and Dad's in Honduras."

"So they'll be here sometime tomorrow evening," he grinned.

"At the latest," she returned lightly. There was no way her parents would stay away after reading the report on her attack and injuries. If she were lucky, they wouldn't hover too much.

_**XXooXX**_

Lucky closed the door to his GTO after fastening his daughter into her safety seat and waved to her through the glass making her smile. He turned back to his ex to find her with a look of disappointment on her face. It was an expression he had become all too familiar. Thank God he didn't have to live with it any more. "You're late. You knew I was taking her to Mom and Dad's for dinner tonight."

"I already called Laura and told her I would be dropping Ruby off late," Elizabeth explained as if that made things better. "Besides, it's not like you have to get up for work in the morning and Ruby will be staying with you until Monday."

"I'm not going there with you right now."

The major point of contention that brought about the end of their marriage. Elizabeth wanted a husband with a real job, preferably like the rest of the Hardy/Webber family in the medical field. Like she hadn't known exactly the kind of man he was before they got married. In the beginning, she hadn't cared if he occasionally moonlighted for Sonny in between his usual elusive computer activities. The moment her sanctimonious family started whispering in her ear, she found those unbendable morals and tried to demand he live up to them as well.

The only reason she didn't give him a hard time about dinner tonight was his mother. If it had just been Luke, she would have thrown a fit and tried to deny him the weekend with his little girl. Then again, if it were just Luke, there probably wouldn't have been a family dinner to go to, Lucky smirked silently.

"It's the truth," she folded her arms over her chest. "First you'll get up with Ruby and eat Froot Loops with her over Saturday morning cartoons. At noon, you'll finally put some clothes on her and take her out to the park and stuff her full of sweets and junk food. There will probably be burgers from Kelly's for dinner, and after you put her to bed you'll play on that lap top until three in the morning."

"Playing on that lap top funded Ruby's college and trust fund and bought that house you're still living in." He felt obligated to point out.

He hadn't cared about being a stay at home father while Elizabeth worked at GH as a nurse. As long as he was able to put food on the table and pay the bills it didn't matter. It also gave him the chance to be with Ruby instead of putting her in daycare. Again, more mutterings from Elizabeth's relatives, about how men were supposed to go out to work. Just because his work wasn't what they approved of, didn't mean he wasn't good at it or that he didn't provide for his family.

"Until the IRS or the police find out where the money came from and take it all away," she rolled her eyes.

"Stocks. You know I put that money together playing around on the stock market that year," he insisted, he would never take a chance with his daughter's future or her home that way. He might not live there anymore but he wanted the stablity for her he didn't have growing up. Not that his life was bad, but he wanted her to have the choice of joining the Spencer madness or the staid humdrum of the Webbers.

"And I resent you implying otherwise, Elizabeth. We can't all be doctors and nurses like your family."

"I never asked you-"

"No, you just sulked in silence. Look, you're right. Tomorrow will probably go exactly like you described but I'm a good father. You can't deny it by putting down the cereal I buy or the way I make money. You don't hear me bitching about that prissy little dress you put her in, or how you insist on making her take those stupid ballet classes just because you took them at that age."

Classes she claimed she had hated.

"What's wrong with her dress?" Blue eyes widened in offense.

"We're going to my parents for dinner Elizabeth, not high tea with the Queen. She's four years old. She'll be running and playing with Michael and Jake and rip one of those layers of lace off then feel guilty for the rest of the night."

"You didn't tell me Carly and Jason would be there," she said quietly.

"Mom called after you did," he answered, feeling just a bit guilty for tossing that out. Carly and Elizabeth hated each other for some reason, though Carly insisted it was because Elizabeth was attracted to Jason. He couldn't see it though. If she couldn't handle being married to him and he was just computer hacker, she wouldn't dare go near a former mob enforcer. "They're in from Puerto Rico for two weeks, then they'll head back down to the casino."

"Maybe-"

"I have to go," he interrupted before she could go off on one of her Carly tangents. "Mom's holding dinner for us and we're late as it is." He climbed into the car, and rolled down the window, "I'll drop Ruby off at the house Monday evening." The engine started with a loud growl that made Ruby giggle from the back seat.

"Oh yeah, it's not Froot Loops. I bought Lucky Charms this week."

_**oo**_

"Grandpa, Grandma, we're here." Ruby ran through the front door of his parents house where he could already hear the sounds of his family inside. He could smell hints of basil and tomato in the air from his mother's cooking, hopefully his favorite lasagne, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

"Mom, Dad," he stopped short at the figure sitting on the couch and all the voices in the living room drew to a halt. "It can't be," he muttered. Not after five damned years.

He ignored the sound of his mother calling his name, his sister's concerned voice ushering the kids out of the room and away from the impending explosion. From the corner of his eye he could see Carly grab her husband's hand and pull him silently from the room, while his parents quietly excused themselves leaving him and this ghost from his not so distant past alone.

He wished he could say she looked exactly the same. In some ways those words were accurate. She was still the same petite firecracker he grew up with, that much would never change. The spark of mischief was all Robin, despite the purple and blue black bruising around her left eye and along the side of her face.

The split lip barely covered by the tiny butterfly bandage had the beginnings of vicious rage seething in his gut.

She stood with some effort, favoring her side and he could make out bandages around her stomach beneath the loose red blouse. Memories flooded him, of them playing as children. International thief and super spy. Even then, their lives never followed tradtion but how the hell had things come to this?

Hours of sharing secrets and being there for each other during the chaos that were their parents lives until the moment she had run and ripped their friendship to shreds. And all without a word of why for five damned years. Five years he'd felt like he was drowning and needed her.

When his daughter was born and he desperately wanted to share that moment with her.

When his marriage fell apart and he needed her to explain to him why, to assure him that he'd done everything in his power to make it work and he wasn't quite the failure he felt like.

Now she showed up and he despaired on what the damned WSB had tangled her in that had this happen to her.

"What the hell happened to you?" He was shouting before he was aware.

"I'm fine."

"Like hell you're fine. You look like you should be in a hospital somewhere. Who did this to you? You need to tell me the bastard that did this is dead," he growled, hands fisting helplessly at his side. She lifted her undamaged arm, cupped the side of his face and he felt his heart skip several beats in his chest.

Robin was always beautiful but it was an animated beauty. Her features were always glowing with excitement shimmering just beneath the surface. She always had a smile or a quick laugh, her hands emphasizing some point she was making or foot tapping to an internal rhythm only she could hear.

Now there was a frailty to that beauty, the bruises and pain in her eyes only emphasized. Instead of the playful glow in those warm brown eyes, there was wariness and fear. She held herself quietly, aware of each movement and carefully controlled.

Lucky didn't know if that stillness was a result of these wounds or if it had developed over the past five years as a result of her work with the WSB. When his father told him that she went active, he couldn't believe it. Robin had never given one clue that she wanted the life her parents had. Working as a profiler and as an actual agent were two different things and he had felt like someone had ripped the ground open from beneath him.

Now he didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that he hadn't been there to protect her or that she finally decided to come home after ditching their friendship in the first place. What was worse was that he didn't know if she would have come back at all if this hadn't happened to her.

"Is he dead?" Lucky demanded, this time much louder, the cold edge in his voice making her flinch.

"No," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"Then he will be."

_Fin_


	4. I Will Hunt You Down

**This fic is connected to a Series of Oneshots posted on my board TMAS called The Adventures of Bonnie and Clyde. However, it stands alone without much confusion. **

**Plot and Week #10:** Temptation chance, hold, strength  
**Couple:** Damian Spinelli and Maxie Jones

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**_

_**I Will Hunt You Down**_  
_a nibble in the Bonnie & Clyde-verse_

"Spinelli! I can't marry you!"

Maxie Jones hated the beaten puppy look on the face of the guy she had come to care an awful lot about but it couldn't be helped. They were friends but wasn't marriage taking things a bit too far.

Spinelli was so different than the other guys she knew and dated. While they were interested in increasing the strength of their biceps or the size of their bank accounts, Damian Spinelli was one of those true rare finds who cared more about helping others than himself. Except when it came to his computer. Mess with the laptop and he was likely to get vicious.

Most of them were only interested in showing her off when they went out or having sex. Spinelli actually listened to her as if what she had to say was important. He didn't make her feel stupid because she had barely scraped through high school. Best of all, he was nice.

After everything she had been through, nice was good.

"No!," he sputtered in his usual spasmostic way when he was excited about something. It was really funny sometimes when he got going. The hands would start flailing and the cute way his face would scrunch up always made her smile.

"That is not at all what the Jackal intended, dear Maximista. You see," he paused and did the scrunchy thing again, this time adding a squirm in his chair. "That is, you misinterpreted my perfectly innocent but quite important intentions, when I offered those words of proposed matrimony."

"I really don't see how I could have misunderstood you, Spinelli. You asked me to marry you." And they definitely were spending too much time together if she could decifer that last bit of nonsense he said.

"This is true, however, you didn't allow me to finish."

"Fine," she waved an impatient hand. "But you need to hurry so that we can get back to the office. Just because Jason and Sam have flown off to South Carolina on some kidnapping case doesn't mean that we can slack off. This job is really important to me. I have to pay them back for everything they've done."

It wasn't everyday a girl found herself mixed up in a porn ring with reputed mobster Sonny Cornithos. If it hadn't been for Jason Morgan and Sam McCall finding her that night in that motel, she honestly didn't know what might have happened to her. If answering phones and typing up notes and case files was a chance to return the favor, it was the least she could do.

Besides they paid well and it was sort of interesting. Not to mention they pretty much trusted her with their office. So what if she was a secretary instead of working the fashion industry like she always dreamed. Some of those adventurer genes from Frisco and Felicia Jones had to have rubbed off a little.

"Exactly!" Spinelli perked up, jostling the laptop sitting on the table in front of them. After a rather wild scramble to catch hold of it before slamming to the floor, then a disturbing rub down and whispers of 'the precious baby' he finally settled down. "You see Stone Cold and the Goddess were kind and gracious enough to offer the Jackal the opportunity to prove his most unmatched cyber skills by working for them and I want to prove to them that their faith was not misplaced."

"And how does marrying me prove that you're good with that computer."

"I told you last week I optained my own private investigators licence, correct?"

"Yeah, and?"

"This morning before you arrived at the office, Morgan and McCall Investigations received a request for their services."

"But they're out of town," she frowned still not knowing where he was going with all of this.

"Yes but this case sounded quite interesting and well within our capacity to solve. Just think how appreciative Stone Cold and the Goddess would be when they returned from rescuing the young mite and found we kept the office running smoothly and brought our own set of nefarious criminals to justice."

She could only stare at that complete mouthful. "Spinelli, do you practice those big words in the mirror in the morning?"

"Why no, Maximista, not at all," he shrugged missing her joke completely.

"Okay, I'm actually curious now. Why on earth do I have to marry you and who are the 'nefarious criminals,'" she air quoted with a grin.

"Well you see-"

"In english, we're not all computer geniuses with large vocabularies," she interrupted before he could gain momentum.

"Of course." Then his eyes widened comically, as if realizing he just might have called her something less than intelligent. "That's not to say, I mean-"

"I get it. Now just spit it out."

"A woman called this morning to request an investigation into a psychiatrist who she alleges conned her out of her family's life savings."

"Why didn't she go to the police, I'm sure my Uncle Mac would have been happy to arrest some quack who steals people money?"

"She seemed ashamed, and her husband doesn't want their family and friends to find out what happened. That's why she refused to even come into the office," he answered sympathetically. "Evidently the couple was having marital difficulties and the psychiartrist suggested they attend his couples seminar up at Lake Neman. When they arrived, there were six other couples there so she felt a little less uncomfortable about what the weekend would entail."

"So how did he con them out of their savings?"

"He gained access to their bank accounts near the end of the seminar when the couples were offered a CD of inspirational messages, a DVD of the weekend's activities and a medicinal supplement. An herbal cocktail that was supposed to help with the husband's," he frowned looking down at his lap, and finished with a quiet, "_Problem_."

"What kind of problem?"

"You know," he blinked his eyes, "_Problem_." Spinelli glanced around the diner to make sure no one was listening, then held up a bent index finger and slowly straightened it.

Maxie stared for a second, going from Spinelli's face to his hand and back again to his widened eyes and finally it hit her. "OH! His," she raised her own crooked index finger, "_Problem_." Spinelli nodded in confirmation. The utter absurdity of the situation hit her and well, it was hilarious. Which was why she threw back her head and laughed.

"Maxie," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry," she appologized, trying really hard to straighten her face and not burst into laughter again. "I'm not laughing about," and it was pretty useless because she cracked up again. After several more minutes she finally calmed enough to speak again. Unless she was mistaken, Spinelli had a rather sheepish grin on his face as well. "It's not funny that their savings were stolen, I'm sorry I shouldn't have laughed."

"It's okay Maxie, I know you meant no malicious intent."

"Thanks Spinelli," She grinned, reaching over to grab his favored cup of orange soda and sneaking a sip before he could complain. This was pretty regular for them and he always let her get away with it. "So, I guess we pretend like we're married, go see the shrink for a few sessions and hopefully he will offer us a trip to his secret lodge so he can try to sell you the miracle juice."

"That's it," he nodded, eager that she had seen his plan.

"It's a little risky though, we're kinda young for you to have Erectile Disfunction problems."

Spinelli promptly choked on his soda before spitting it out across the diner. "I'm not, I'm not," he stuttered manically making her giggle.

Maxie stood up, moving around the table to plant herself into the befuddled guy's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Trembling hands grasped her waist before snatching away in haste and hovering as he tried to understand what was going on.

"Oh, Damian," she murmured prettily, leaning forward to nuzzle the skin on his neck. "Don't you want me anymore? We've only been married for two years and you won't make love to me anymore. Aren't I sexy? Don't I satisfy you," she nipped his earlobe with her teeth, a wicked smile spreading across her lips, "In bed."

"Uh, Maximista," he choked out. Dazzled eyes were drawn to the push of cleavage revealed by the deep v in her multi-hued sundress before he gulped and hurriedly looked away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm working on our little problem," she sighed softly, blowing a warm breath of air against his ear. When she shifted in his lap, she couldn't help but be impressed by the package the cute but geeky computer wiz was sporting.

Damian Spinelli had no _problems_ at all.

_Fin_


	5. Havyn: The Blessing

**This fic is connected to the fantasy fic, Havyn, a two part series posted on TMAS. However it stands alone. If interested, the two stories in Havyn are called Homecoming and Homeland. The link to Tell Me A Story (TMAS) is in my profile.**

**Plot and Week#11: **Metamorphosis promise, time, believe  
**Couple:** Georgie Jones & Shade Antenn

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB**_

_**The Blessing**_  
_a nibble in the Havyn-verse_

_**"This is my prayer for you, there for you, ever true.  
Each every day for you, in everything you do.  
And when you come to me, and hold me close to you.  
I bless you...and you bless me too."**__  
--The Blessing, Celtic Woman_

A crossroads.

At nineteen, Georgianna Jones thought perhaps she was a bit too young to be faced with one and she had no proof, yet there was a budding feeling unfurling in her stomach that told her very soon her life was going to change.

She had never believed in the possiblity of other lands and places in time where magic existed. Maxie was the one who loved the fairy tales as a child, and though she would tell you she stopped believing after their mother became so distant and left them with Mac, Georgie always knew that little touch of fey had never completely disappeared. It's vulnerable glint could often be seen behind the masks and walls in Maxie's eyes.

This day as afternoon drifted into evening and the stars took their place in the sky, the heat still lingering in the air called for swimming and Maxie being the sly and convincing sister chose the lake near the Quartermaine mansion for their latest escapade. The full moon's haunting glow gave the night a somber feeling, which neither sister tried to aleve. It seemed fitting somehow, since she would be leaving for Oxford to study in the fall. Maxie was determined to get in as many sister moments as she could, and Georgie knew her decision to study abroad had hurt Maxie though she would never admit it.

First their father, then their mother and now her sister, Maxie must be feeling like they were all abandoning her but Georgie knew she couldn't stay in Port Charles forever. The decision to leave the country to continue her education didn't seem like the right one but when balanced against remaining at PCU it won out every time. So much had happened in so little time. She had loved and lost, married and divorced, made cherished friends and witnessed death. Yet none of this seemed to be the path her life was supposed to be on. How would she find the woman she was supposed to be if she didn't even try?

"Don't be such a spoil sport Georgie," Maxie tossed back over her shoulders as they walked down the wooded path toward the lake. They both wore swimwear, Maxie's a tiny sliver of red baring most of her skin while hers was a more sedate tank style one-piece in navy. Each step was a bit hindered by the large towels wrapped around their hips and Maxie carried the portable radio while she had the brown paper bag with brownies and butter pecan ice cream from Kelly's.

She stuck her tongue out, then giggled as her sister had done the same at the exact moment. "Maxie are you sure we're headed in the right direction, this doesn't look like the way to the Quartermaine's lake."

"How many times have we come out here Georgie? Besides, it's not like we could get lost. A few turns and we'll run right into the Quartermaine mansion. Wonder if Dillon is home yet, he told me he would be at your going away party Friday night."

Seeing her ex-husband would bring a sharp tang of bittersweet. What had been. The promise of what could have been but was now lost. Dillon claimed they would forever be friends but the last thing she wanted was for her party to be marred by Dillon showing up from the land of starlets and plastic surgery with some airhead blonde with more boobs than brains. Not that she wanted Dillon, she was simply self conscious enough without having it rubbed in her face that she had not been enough for him.

Girl next door didn't quite compete with movie vixen.

"But don't you find it rather odd," Georgie glanced around a hint of worry creeping its way down her spine. She might as well had been speaking to herself for Maxie was long gone.

Picking up the pace, she rushed ahead, noting how dense the trees and foliage was becoming. There were flowers and not the famed Quartermaine roses, each bloom wilder and more beautiful with each step she took. None like anythng she had ever seen. The colors were vivid and their scent intense in the thick humid night air. The sounds of the night were amplified, crickets and grasshoppers singing their songs, grass and bush rustling as the night animals came out. Everything was so foreign and yet beautiful.

"Georgie!"

Appearing seemingly from no where, the harsh whisper at her ear made the pulse that begun to beat erractically halt her heart cold and still. Maxie cut off her scream with a hand over her mouth and a glare. "Be quiet! I think I hear someone coming." When Maxie figured she had frowned her to silence, she slowly dropped her hand from her mouth

Unknowing, they grasped hands standing side by side ready to confront whatever was headed their way, together.

The crushing of branches and limbs drew closer then stopped. Blinking with bafflement, she glanced around waiting for whatever was making the noise to show itself. That's when she felt the warm gust of air brush across her face. She turned her head quickly to see what had caused it, only to feel a painful pinch into her bare shoulder.

"Ow, damn it, that hurt," she grasped at the spot only to see blood seeping between her fingers and begin a heated path down her arm and across her chest. "Something bit me! Did you see what bit me?"

Maxie's face was blank and shaken, "I didn't see anything. God, Georgie, it's really bleeding." She snatched off her towel and wiped at the blood on her arm and then moved brushed her hand aside so she could press the fluffy material into the seeping wound. "We need to get back home. I can't believe something bit you. Do you think maybe it was an owl or something. Eww what if it was a bat!"

The blurred image Georgie caught a bit of was dark, so that made her cringe at the thought of bats. Bats had rabies didn't they? And when did bats just start attacking randomly in Port Charles. Before she could agree, she watched a figure step onto the path in front of them.

"Oh my goodness," she could hear herself whisper and Maxie turned as well. Judging from the expression on her face, her sister was having the pretty much the same reaction.

As a beam of moonlight hit his face just so, all she could think was the man was probably the most gorgeous she had ever lay eyes upon. Just above average, inching a couple of notches over six feet in height but he carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence she couldn't help to admire. Black pants displayed legs that moved with grace and virility. He wore a simple long sleeved collarless shirt where she could see sinewy muscle pulling beneath the fitted silken fabric. The slight v near the throat drew her eye to the flash of skin, made her want to place her mouth there and feel his pulse throb against her lips.

He was beautiful, heartbreakingly so. Sensously curved lips, clear skin stretched across a sculptured face, a straight nose that combined in a face that made her throat dry. His eyes were a pure vibrant cereulean unlike any she had ever seen before. When he finally spoke, his voice, smooth and rich, reached inside and grasped her heart to hold in absolute stillness for one brief but unforgetable moment.

"You are injured?"

Maxie held up a hand to ward him off, "Look buddy, I don't know who you are but you just stay where you are! Our father is the police commissioner, so you don't want to mess with us."

Except something in his gaze made her want to answer, "Something bit me."

"Georgie!"

The look on his face darkened, "You saw him then?"

"Him?" Did that mean it wasn't a bat and she didn't have to look forward to rabies shots? "No, it flew by too fast and it's dark. Did you see it?"

"Hello, strange man appearing in our path in the woods? Didn't you learn about stranger danger when we were like five? Not to mention all those horror movies. Scream. Hitchhiker. All pointing out that when some strange guy starts talking to you, you should run away." Maxie pushed down on the towel that was still absorbing blood making her hiss with pain.

"Maxie, that hurt!"

"Then you should pay attention to what I'm saying and not the hottie stranger over there."

"Interesting," the velvet edge in his voice was unmistakable. He turned to give a sharp whistle and Maxie panicked.

"Great and now he's probably calling his psycho friends to help him finish us off."

"Be quiet," and he obviously expected the calm order to be obeyed. She thought Maxie would really get loud but like magic, her mouth snapped shut to blink up at the man in surprise.

Without saying more, he neatly brushed Maxie aside, removing the wet towel and replaced it with his hand. At once heat slammed into her body. Hot and Impatient. She could hear the loud thrumming of her heartbeat and then what sounded like a second. Her gaze was drawn once again to the rapid pulse at his throat and she knew from it's matching flutter the other was his heartbeat. It was matching hers to finally beat in unison.

Suddenly she could feel the blood racing through her veins as something more began to flutter to life. Need. A sensation she had experienced before but nothing this intense or seductive. Dark lashes drifted over his eyes but not before she had seen the answering rush of passion flare in them. A surge from the contact of their skin then began to spread through the rest of her body, searching, but for what she didn't know and couldn't yet understand.

It felt as if a piece of him, his essence had slipped inside of her leaving a strange sense of comfort and a longing ache waiting to be fulfilled.

Done, he removed his hand looking down at it then her as if he were just as surprised by that moment as she had been. "Will you be able to get home safely?" The question was asked with strain.

"Yes." She sounded like one of those breathless romance novel heroines ready to swoon into her hero's arms. The mental image wasn't exactly turning her off as it was supposed to.

"Then I must leave you." He gave a second sharp whistle then said aloud, "Come now, you know Mother and Father will be worried if we dally for much longer. It's time to return."

And she watched in shock as what seemed impossible broke from the trees to alight on his shoulder. "Wait! That's not real," she shook her head in denial. "It can't be."

"Isn't it amusing how often people claim things to be unreal even when it's staring them in the face." He didn't smile but the humor in his voice and glittering in his eyes was unmistakable.

"You can't just leave, I don't even know your name." And she felt as though she were losing something vital to her existance and didn't understand why.

He paused midstride and turned to face her again, his expression stilled. A light passed between us again, "I will see you soon. Georgie." And he allowed just the smallest of smiles to lift the corner of his mouth before raising his hand. As he murured, "Havyn," and snapped his fingers he was enveloped in a violent whirl of flame.

Then he was gone.

_**XXooXX**_

A month passed and part of Georgie felt like she had imagined the whole night. What she had seen, the man who left her enchanted, even the bite on her shoulder seemed some mystical moment out of time. She might have convinced herself none of it happened if Maxie hadn't made such a big deal of it all. The part she especially hounded her about was how he had vanished in that fire and how he must be some kind of magician or something.

None of her sister's explanations made any sense. Especially the way the wound on her shoulder was virtually healed by the time they made it back to their house. The only mark that remained was a black flare that looked like some kind of tattoo and swirled in a spiral toward her neck.

Tonight was the first night of the full moon, just like before and she was both apprehensive and eager. As she sat with Maxie on the back porch swing of their house, she wondered if she would see him again. Should she return to that path near the Quartermaine mansion in hopes that he would return and explain the unexplainable? Despite her best efforts her mysterious stranger was never far from her thoughts. Not even seeing Dillon together with the sultry brunette Sage at her going away party could erase his elegant face from her mind.

"Your skin is getting worse Georgie. Have you been using that creme the doctor prescribed?"

Trust Maxie to bring up the one thing about the incident she didn't like. Whatever had happened that night was the only thing she could blame for the strange rash that had broken out across her arm. It appeared three days before and showed no signs of going away. It was fortunate it was summertime and she could wear the pale yellow halter because whenever something touched the irritated area of her skin it burned painfully.

The doctor was mystified and after running several skin tests had yet to find the cause. All anyone could do over next few days was watch it spread consistently down her arm. "I don't know what's happening to me, Maxie."

"It's probably something that guy did. Instead of trying to protect him, you should have told Mac."

"We don't know if he had anything to do with this."

"Oh, please. Something bites you but you won't tell me what it was," she clicked off on a finger. "Then you give Mac this vague description of the guy in the woods who accosted us."

"He didn't attack us," Georgie defended weakly. "You have no proof that he did anything."

"He touched you! That's more than enough," bright eyes widened with agitation. "He could have had something on his hands and it got into your blood stream through that bite," Maxie pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, "That you still haven't told me about."

"Would you listen to yourself? You sound as if I'm purposely keeping some big secret from you."

"That's because you are, Georgie! I heard you, you know. I was standing right there. You said 'That's not real. It's impossible.' And then he said, 'It's funny how often people think something isn't real' or something like that. So if you're not hiding anything why won't you tell me what you saw? I'm your sister, you should be able to tell me anything!"

"Just leave it alone!" It was all too much, feeling like she was choking she lashed out. She hated feeling weak and vulnerable. Those weren't qualities that applied to her. She wasn't adventurous like her mother or exciting like Maxie. She was calm. Controlled. She liked being the steady one in the Scorpio/Jones house because it lessened all of the drama that surrounded her.

There were no such things as dragons and one certainly didn't bite her. The guy was probably some magician like Maxie said and she probably had a bad case of fungus from traisping through the woods.

Dragons didn't exist!

_"Denial is a dangerous thing, Georgie."_

Closing her eyes as her pulse quickened at the sound of his voice, she smelled him first. Crisp and clean, wondrous. She would never admit it, but she had dreamed of him. Now with him here again, she couldn't deny that need anymore. She had never experienced anything like him and had wished him back hundreds of times. And here he was walking up the small path to the porch, clad in black and looking just as beautifully handsome as before.

"Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

"Well, I did tell you I would return." This time he allowed the tender smile to spread across his face.

"And another thing," she stood meeting him at the base of the stairs to glare angrily up at him. "You know my name when I have no idea who you are."

"My name is Shade." He stared down at her, his magnetism so compelling, a warm shudder passed across her skin. What she found truly amazing was he seemed to be focused solely on her. Attracted even, when Maxie stood behind them looking beautiful and blonde. Men like this wasn't attracted to women like her. She knew her strengths and blonde bombshell wasn't one of them.

"You're beautiful to me."

Pleasure shot through her veins at those words, "How did you-" then she frowned disconcertedly, crossing her arms, "You probably won't answer that question either."

"Probably not." This time there was definite amusement in his voice.

Then she could feel pain swell, sharp and crisp from the remains of the bite mark on her shoulder. It was as though his presence had brought it on. The rash on her arm began to burn, all of it spreading like fire into her head. "I-" her vision blurred and she found herself in Shade's arms.

"Georgie, are you alright?" Even with the pain she could hear the panic in Maxie's voice. "Get your hands off my sister!"

"I'm fine," she pulled determinedly out of his embrace, she would not show weakness before him.

"I'm going to call Mac."

"No!" She needed a moment to reorient herself but the last thing she wanted was Mac right now. Nor was she ready for Maxie to leave her alone with Shade. Not yet. "I'll just get some water. It's probably just the heat."

As she walked through the kitchen, she passed a mirror and the sight froze her in her tracks. "No," she whispered brokenly. It was horrible. Her skin. The rash now completely covered her arm and neck and was spreading across her chest. Trembling fingers brushed across the top of her breasts and flinched away from the heat of her skin.

Scales. It felt like scales.

"Maxie!"

Maxie burst through the door with Shade mere steps behind and fear, stark and vivid burst across her face. "Georgie what happened?" A shaky hand pointed, "What is that?"

Georgie turned back to the mirror and gasped at the latest horror. Two veins, electric blue, pulsed near the black swirl then slowly began inching across her skin. "What's happening to me?" Each breath she managed to drag into her lungs quivered with near hysteria. "You know! You know what's going on!" Tears blinded her, choking off her voice.

Another arrow of shot agony through her body as she nearly collasped into Shade's arms. Terror unlike anything she had ever experienced welled in her throat, as she watched that thing or whatever it was making it's way toward her heart. "Get it out! Get it out of me right now!" she screamed helplessly. She could feel an entity reaching within her, grasping, waiting to claim her. It hurt so horribly.

Voices began chanting in her head, and she clutched at his arms needing something to keep her tethered to this world and not the pain. Each sound seemed to build then crest, every wave stronger and more powerful than the one before. They were seductive and yet confusing, the meanings unclear but calling her to surrender all the same.

"Is that what you want Georgie." Shade's eyes bore into her, the intensity of his gaze almost pleading for her to do something. "You have a decision to make and once it's made, you can never go back."

_Decide. Decide. Decide. Decide._

"I don't understand. It hurts," she gulped no longer caring as hot tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Yes it does but you must chose. Listen to them Georgie. Listen and chose." His voice was hard and brutal, forcing her to listen beyond the hurt and see what was being offered.

"I don't know what you want from me." But she did. She could hear it whispering in her head over and over.

_Guardian. Guardian. Guardian._

"I can't. I'm not strong enough."

Then his face softened, became sympathetic as a warm slightly calloused hand cupped her face. "You would not have been chosen if you were not. I believe in you, Georgie. Now you must believe in yourself."

Vaguely Georgie could hear Maxie cry out but she knew what she was to do. The thought of it was so huge that she could barely wrap her mind around it. When she thought of the crossroads her life had met, never had she imagined this.

"Yes."

The whisper was barely finished before she felt those tentacles of pain grasp her heart. She heard herself shriek, a sound louder and more anguished than ever. Energy laced through her veins, the excrusciating pain driving her to her knees but Shade held her through it all. Her fingers clenched at his chest, the only link to consciousness that remained as torment racked her defenseless body.

"It hurts." She just managed to clamp her lips shut to imprison the rising wail because she saw the sheen of tears in his own eyes. Hours seemed to pass in mere minutes. She could see his lips moving and tried to focus on the words.

_"-the pain. Georgie."_

"-breathe."

Knowledge began to flood her mind, the dragons, their history, her role as one of now four Guardians instead of solely one. It was all there and so much more. Things about Shade, images of him and another who looked nothing like him but she somehow knew was his twin. When they were children playing with...fledgelings...like the one who had bitten her. His parents, his people.

Havyn.

There was a whole new world waiting for her.

Gradually calm began to seep into the ache making it receed, leaving her feeling fatigued and sore. Weak and numb. Then relieved that it was finally done. From that one instant to the next rapture hit her stunned body. And it was amazing. The two extremes, agony and utter bliss, left her breathless.

"It's intoxicating isn't it."

Georgie remembered the man who held her so protectively within his arms. A devastaing grin creased his face and the beginnings of her own tipped the corners of her mouth. she felt the power that lived within him now, for it breathed in her as well.

Slowly, seductively, his gaze slid down her body in lazy appraisal. Lust flared to life and the attraction she felt once before seemed magnified as if her heart and soul had been unlocked for him and him alone.

"Yes, it's wonderful."

"Look in the mirror now," he turned her back and she gasped at the image facing her.

The rash had disappeared but in it's place the black flare had spread in it's place. She would have balked at the idea of a tattoo but these swirls were beautiful and contained the history of all dragons that only she and other Guardians would be able to decifer.

Her eyes, normally dark brown were now the same vibrant blue as Shade's. "Who are you?" she asked again, turning back into his embrace, though her heart already knew the answer.

"My name is Shade Rgand Antenn. Crown prince of Havyn, prince of Aysir of the West and one of the Guardians of the Dragons along with my twin brother Griffin and my father, Ruler of Havyn, Jason Antenn." He paused as a smile lit his eyes, "And now you Georgie."

And there he was, the young fledgeling sat at her feet black as a raven's wing, blue fire in his eyes that held an intelligence beyond the ages. It all seemed so surreal and yet, the one true thing in her life.

"Five years ago on my sixteenth birthday my father told me of a vision from the eldest Dragon. A vision of the world my father was born, where a fledgeling would travel to find a Guardian. The fledgeling born of the Dragon whose heart I held when I was became a Guardian. Guion would mark the woman who would become my wife. I didn't want to believe him. I didn't want to believe in visions though I knew the knowledge and wisdom of the dragons went far beyond what most could comprehend."

Shade stepped back so that he could take her hands into his, "My twenty-first birthday passed and I was taken to the dragons. Then I was sent here. Everything my father said has come to pass, Georgie. Everything."

"But you're suggesting," that they were destined to be together. Part of her wanted this, to reach out and grasp what he was offering with both hands and never let go. But her heart was jaded and she had been hurt before by a man claiming to love her while Shade had never mentioned that word.

"Vision or not, I wouldn't make a commitment to another if I didn't want it. I never believed in love at first sight," his low chuckle seemed more amused at his own expense. "And part of me still doesn't. But I believe in what I'm feeling right now. I believe in how I feel when you're in my arms. I'm asking if you feel the same."

What point would it be to lie? "You make me feel," she released a heavy sigh, "Everything. And it scares me so much."

"Will you at least come to Havyn? See my world and meet the dragons." He lowered his face and rubbed his cheek against hers intimately. "Give me a chance?"

Georgie turned to see Maxie staring at them with tears in her eyes as if she already knew her decision. "Tell Mac," she managed through tears of her own. Mac would never allow her to go and she couldn't bear upsetting him. Yet, she had to take this chance or she knew she would regret it. "Make him understand, please, Maxie. I have to-"

"I know," her sister smiled then threw her arms around her neck in a tight hug. Georgie tried to share a portion of the immeasurable wonder she was experiencing, causing Maxie to gasp and clench her tigher. "Be happy."

Reluctantly, she pulled away and back into the welcome of Shade's arms. "I love you Maxie."

"I love you too, Georgie."

She turned to Shade, looking up into his eyes and knew that her home was with him now. The kiss he brushed across her mouth was warm with a dreamy sweetness that drew a soft mewl of pleasure. They broke apart, Shade leaning his forehead against hers as he once again whispered, "Havyn" snapping his fingers.

And together they vanished.

_Fin_


	6. Exile

**I know the kids ages aren't compatible, but this is AU and I really liked this couple.**

**Plot and Week#13: **Maturation vanish, cruel, demand  
**Couple: **Kristina Corinthos-Davis & Jacob Martin Morgan

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**_

_**Exile**_

_**"Do you know what it feels like in this world.  
For a girl."**___

--Madonna

The rain coursing down the glass of the window pane looked like the tears she was unable to shed. The dull grey sky had opened up and began it's downpour while they were at the cemetary drenching everyone and everything with it's wet fury. It should have provided some relief to the sweltering summer humidity choking the city but now all gathered could add sodden clothing to the uncomfortable heat.

Some poor misguided idiot had actually murmured how even the heaven's cried for the dearly departed. When it was probably more accurate to say he was merely making the most of the opportunity to make everyone around him just as miserable as he possibly could before he finally took his place in eternal purgatory.

Kristina Adela Corinthos-Davis was relieved the funeral over. Tired of people giving her sympathic glances of sorrow and pity. Sick of accepting the condolences from people who certainly meant well but had no idea how badly she wanted the service to end.

Michael_ "Sonny" _Corinthos, that cruel, arrogant, selfish, sanctimonious bastard was finally dead and buried. It had been a long time coming, in her opinion.

There were few familiar faces amongst the Port Charles citizens that attended her father's funeral. She had spent the past five years in Florence, Italy and had very little dealings with the anyone here anymore. It didn't help that in the last years of her father's life he had managed to alienate just about everyone who dared care for him.

It didn't start off that way. Alexis might have kept her carefully seperated from Sonny Corinthos, dangerous mob boss, but after she reached a certain age her mother was forced to allow her to make that decision for herself.

From the age of thirteen, she had been a beloved Daddy's Girl who adored her father and thought the world of him. She knew there were things about him that society didn't agree upon, and she certainly understood with all the secrecy and body guards that her father wasn't like the fathers of her friends at her expensive private school.

Her mother was the District Attorney, so she knew her father regularly without remorse or regret broke the law and often got away with it. For a girl with stars in her eyes for the handsome man who showered her with gifts and affection, none of that really mattered.

Then the danger started.

Sacrifices were made.

But all of those things were out of her realm of understanding at the time. Until her brother Michael was caught in the cross fire of a hit intended for her father. Then all bets were off and the streets of Port Charles ran crimson with blood. Michael stayed in a coma for almost six months before finally waking up but he would never be the same. It would take years of physical therapy and rehibilitation before he learned to walk and talk properly.

Her sister Sam and her husband Lucky were always arguing about him putting himself in danger in the dangerous 'mob war.' Sam demanded he stop working the Corinthos/Morgan cases and Lucky would tell her he was a cop and had to do his job.

Daddy Ric wanted her Mom to take her and Molly out of the country until the worst of it all was over. Pride kept them both tied to a city neither of them really had a major connection to, when she understood that neither of them wanted to leave Sonny. As if he were out of their direct line of sight something would happen to him.

Daddy Ric loved Sonny.

Mommy loved Sonny.

And Daddy Ric hated Sonny because his wife wouldn't tear the last piece of love for her father out of her heart.

Then Elizabeth Webber Morgan and Johnny Zacchara were murdered and everything changed.

The next thing she knew she was playing flower girl at the small and bizarre wedding of Jason Morgan to Claudia Zacchara. Yet a desperate peace had been forged, life calmed and everyone was safe.

Until her father ruined it all.

In a desperate need for silence, Kristina escaped to the study of her father's mansion, only to be surrounded by the gilded trappings the man had buried himself in so that he could try to forget an abusive childhood. It was almost as bad as listening to people expounding on Sonny's virtures and generousity.

He liked to toss around words like honor and respect. Loyalty. God help them, if a person dared betray Sonny Corinthos, or at least committed what could be construed as betrayal in his petty narrow-minded self-serviving principles. It was too bad he never applied that moral code of conduct toward himself.

She could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on.

Sonny had broken that peace making a mockery of everything his best friend and brother had sacrificed to keep them all safe. All because Sonny felt his word was law and they all were expected to obey. Never had she expected it to apply to her.

_**oo**_

_She could still remember the afternoon Jacob Martin Morgan walked into Kelly's with his older brother Cameron. Cam was all dark smoldering good looks with yum-yum eyes and a wicked smile and being two years older, he was completely sigh worthy to her and all of her friends._

Yet Jake was the blue eyed rebel that made her heart race. Jake never smiled, was extremely quiet and rode a motorcycle. He was the guy girls could never bring home. Her mother would have had a stroke if she dared even glance in Jake's direction. Both brothers attended her high school, were honor students who were always together but never gave girls like her the time of day.

As Sonny's daughter she was firmly off limits.

But that day Jake had turned in her direction and gave a small wave. The small quiet smile curving his mouth had been for her and her alone. Sixteen and it was love at first sight. 

_**oo**_

"Sonny was such a good man."

The incessant accolade made her sick every time she heard it. Sonny played the role of devoted husband and father and those who were on the outside looking in or were brainwashed by those fucking dimples believed. As one of his children, her mother a one night stand in between an episode of the Carly & Sonny drama, she knew exactly who her father was.

Sonny Corinthos was not a good man.

He was not a good husband.

He was not a good father.

_**oo**_

_"Kristina Adela Corinthos, I am your father and you will do as I say!"_

She flinched as her father in his wildest fury threw a decanter of scotch across the room. It slammed into the patio door causing it and the bottle to shatter to the ground. Tears smeared with black mascara coursed down her cheeks, lipstick a scarlet smear across her face where he had grabbed her and tried to wipe it off. Sheer black fright had her heart slamming against her ribs and she cringed as another bottle joined the first.

The evening had started off perfectly innocent. Jake had picked her up at her mother's house for their date to the Homecoming dance with the promise to have her home by eleven thirty. It had been a trial to get her mother to agree to her dating Jason Morgan's son but Alexis relented realizing how hard Jason worked to keep the peace in the city of Port Charles. Losing his wife and raising two children had impressed upon him how easily death could snatch a loved one away and happiness could simply vanish.

It wasn't easy keeping Sonny and the Zacchara family away from each other's throats, making sure the Five Families weren't afraid they were gaining too much power but it was a tight rope he gladly walked to keep them all safe.

The night was perfect. Jake looked so gorgeous in his dark blue suit and her mother had convinced Jax's wife, Kate, to find her the perfect designer original. A soft flowing silk halter dress with it's airy handkerchief tail and a touch of satin at the the waist in a vivid sapphire.

As Jake slipped the pretty corsage on her wrist, Sam snapped pictures, Molly teased relentlessly and Ric and her mother had looked on smiling. She and Jake had danced all night in each other's arms and she was the envy of many girl who had gaped at the gentle way Jake treated her. Not wanting the night to end, she wanted to show her father her pretty dress and the pictures they had taken at the dance.

But every thing went wrong. Horribly wrong.

"It was just a kiss Daddy," she pleaded, kneeling down to Jake's unconscious form to pull him tight against her breast and protect him from the wild violence swirling in Sonny's eyes.

"No daughter of mine is going to whore herself for a fucking Zacchara!"

_**oo**_

Sonny declared war and Anthony Zaccahara was the first victim. Nothing anyone said could convince the man he was being unreasonable. Not even his trusted and best friend Jason.

Who had been one bullet away from killing Sonny for touching his son if it had not been for his wife Claudia, ironically enough. They were free, she had whispered in his ear. Free.

And that was the night Jake stood under her window and told her that his family was leaving Port Charles.

From that day forth, nothing was ever the same. No matter how many promises Sonny Corinthos made, how many pretty words of love and affection he spoke, she would forever remember how vile and horridly he had turned on her and Jake.

_**oo**_

_"If you go after that trash, Kristina, don't come back. You won't be welcome and you won't be my daughter. If you leave, you'll be dead to me."_

Those words had broken her heart but Jake had risked everything to come back to Port Charles for her and the love she had in her heart at sixteen had matured and deeped at eighteen over letters and phone calls and emails longing for more.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Daddy. Mom said it was okay for me to attend college in Italy. I'm going."

_**oo**_

And no matter how many times she tried to build some kind of bridge between her and Sonny, he wouldn't budge. She had been subjected to all manner of nasty names and displays of cruelty, until one day Jake asked why she put herself through it all. Sonny was her father, he was supposed to try to mend fences between them and find some understanding. Especially considering he was the one who had broken his word to so many people.

That was the day Daddy Ric became simply Dad.

And her mother was finally free.

"Well this time Daddy, you're dead to me."

_**oo**_

"Honey, have you eaten anything?" Kristina looked up at Carly, who had been the smartest of them all and cut Sonny loose forever the day her son was shot. She had left town with her sons to seek the best medical treatment for Michael and stayed in Los Angeles where she met and married a famous movie producer.

A comforting hand rubbed over her shoulder, and she briefly gave in to the support, leaning her head against her side. Carly looked much like Kristina remembered, tall and smartly dressed in a navy blue suit golden blonde hair pinned in an elegant chignon. She brought Michael and Morgan back for the funeral but they would return to California later on during the week.

It was strange, Sonny's death brought back all the people he had hurt under his roof because they had all been connected through them, the children.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"You know," she smiled softly, "It's okay to forgive him, you know. Sonny was," she paused and sighed, "Difficult. But in his own way, he loved his children as much as he was capable of. I told Michael and Morgan to forgive him for being unable to be the father they needed. Not for Sonny's sake," she frowned and shook her head. "But for their own. It was time to let go of the anger and bitterness, so that we could move on with our lives. And be happy." She finished with another smile.

It would be something she would have to think about and maybe later find closure.

_**oo**_

When a pair of strong arms wrapped her waist from behind, she set down the picture frame she had been holding. Looking around, she noticed someone had turned on one of the desk lamps and hours must have gone by because it was night time.

"Are you okay?"

Kristina leaned her cheek against her husbands and drew a deep breath into her lungs. A strong hand took hers, and brought it to his mouth to be brushed tenderly by his lips. "I'm fine."

"How many times have you said that today?"

A light chuckle escaped at how well he knew her but then he always had. "Too many."

"Dad and Claudia are going back to the hotel. They decided to stick around Port Charles for a while longer to catch up with everyone. Last I heard your Mom was having a dinner over at Wyndemere tomorrow. All those Cassadines under one roof. Will you be plotting world domination?"

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Of course," she turned into his arms and pressed a kiss to his mouth. When he cupped her face and deepened it, slowly, lovingly, with a sweep of his tongue, she allowed him to soothe her. To treasure her, as he did each time they came together.

Finally Jake broke the caress, placing a kiss to her forehead, her eyes and the tip of her nose before tucking her head neatly at his neck. "Did you want to hang here a while longer?"

"No," she wrapped her arms around his waist and allowed her tired soul to melt into his tender care. "I'm done."

_Fin_


	7. A Neverending Story

Song: I Love You  
Artist: Sarah McLachlan

Plot and Week #1: Quest door, kill, lovely  
Couple: Brenda Barrett and Jason Morgan

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN  
**_

_**A Neverending Story**_

_**i have a smile  
stretched from ear to ear  
to see you walking down the road**_

we meet at the lights  
i stare for a while  
the world around us disappears

As Spring stretched out her fertile fingers across the city of Port Charles, life gradually awakened from it's deep Winter slumber. Warmth crept into the breeze and where once brittle trees stretched into the sky, now leaves gradually unfurled. Grass, brown and matted under layers of snow, inched green sprouts forward bravely battling until triumphant lawns and cheerful flowers conquered a valiant foe.

No where was this majesty more prominent than in the Quartermaine rose garden, lovingly tended to by the effervescent and timeless Lila Morgan Quartermaine. What began as mere hobby evolved into a showcase masterpiece. Classic reds and whites bloomed, dancing eagerly with Sterling Silvers, Sexy Rexys and Angel Faces, giving way to hybrids like Day Breaker and Honey Perfumes carefully crafted by skillful hands until reaching the centerpiece of them all, the rarest and most beautiful of them all soft creamy pinks of Dream Come True and Mardi Gras.

Brenda Barrett cared not one bit about any of the stupid things.

As a matter of fact, if her almost six year old legs could have carried her any faster, she would have been free of the stupid maze of flowers and well on her way to calling her sister to come pick her up so that she could leave this dreadful place once and for all.

It wasn't fair. Just because it was Samantha Davis Ashton's birthday party, did not mean she should be the princess. Afterall, Sam was a princess every day. The Cassadine's were royalty. Even a six year old knew that. Sam even got to live over on an island in a huge castle and everything. It wasn't fair the little cheat stole the idea she was going to use for her birthday party next month.

She certainly was not playing enchanted castle on the jungle gym with her at school on Monday even if Sam was her best friend.

When Julia walked her into Grandma Lila's garden, it took every ounce of bravery in her soul not to cry at the beautiful sight before her. There were balloons and streamers in silver and white with lots of pink just like she had imagined. A pink banner stretched proudly over a table pronounced a Happy Birthay to Princess Samantha just like she had wanted, only with her name instead.

Everyone was dressed in costume, and Julia had to drag her into the offered bedroom so she could put on the little pink dress with it's fluffy layers and the crown of tiny white flowers to go over the two braids Julia had placed in her hair that morning. It wasn't so bad. Not really. It just wasn't the beautiful white dress Samantha got to wear. Nor the sparkly tiara and the little wand with it's pink ribbons.

Sam even had rides on a beautiful white stallion just like she always dreamed.

Maybe it was okay that her best friend took her idea for her birthday party. Julia always said that she was supposed to share and Sam was her best friend after all. So she tried to have fun and smile like her big sister had whispered at her to do before leaving. They played games and won prizes. She even took her turn on the horse and didn't argue.

It was when she saw the white cake decorated with pink roses and sprinkles with the enchanted castle on top that really just pissed her off.

Brenda ignored the urgent call for her to come back and stalked off into the maze of the Quartermaine garden. That was her birthday cake! With her castle! She would even bet it had strawberry filling on the inside too! And Sam didn't even like strawberries.

"She's a cheater," the five and three quarters year old pouted. A small hand quickly wiped away the tear making it's way across her cheek. Plopping down in the grass, she sniffed again, wiping stubbornly at another stupid tear, angry because she was lost and because her feelings were hurt. "I'll just have an even better birthday. Maybe I won't even invite her, then we'll see how she likes that!"

"Could you make sure you don't invite me too."

She turned at the boy's voice, wiping a quick hand under her nose. It was Sam's cousin Jason Quartermaine. He lived here at the Quartermaine house and he went to her school but was in first grade. His lip curled into a scowl as he crossed to her and folded his arms. "You stupid girls and your stupid costumes. I hate this!" Right before her eyes, he took his hands and scrubbed them through his golden brown hair ruining the neat style someone had combed it into. Now it stood up in spikes all around his head.

"It's bad enough Mother made me come to my cousin's party but this stuff stinks. If you wanted to have a real party, there should have been cars and stuff like in racing. Or we could have been kung fu masters like Bruce Lee and stuff."

She thought he looked kinda like a very handsome prince in his white shorts and dark blue shirt with it's gold trim. That is until he opened his stupid boy mouth. "No, that would have been dumb," she rolled her eyes. "Every body knows that's no fun."

"Is too!" He insisted. "What kind of fun is it to ride a horse in a circle," he rolled his own eyes, then proceeded to demonstrate by galloping rather slowly like a gimp horse instead of the quite healthy one the children had rode earlier. "We could have had fights and stuff." He broke out in what he thought were pretty cool kung fu kicks making the accompanying noises as well.

After a particularly violent leap into the air, he crashed to the ground and rolled over, ignoring the large smear of dirt and grass stains he pressed into his clothing. At her gasp, he crawled in front of her, tucking his legs beneath him. "What?"

"You're dirty," she pointed to a clump of dirt on his now filthy shirt. "You're gonna get in trouble."

"Who cares," he shrugged, though from the slightly panicked look in his eyes, it was obvious he cared. "Boys are supposed to get dirty." Taking advantage of his position, he squinted at her. It made a funny feeling squirm in her belly because he was so close she could see right into his eyes. They were a pretty blue like the sky today. "Why are you crying anyways? Is that all girls do? My sister always cries but she's only one so I thought it was a baby thing but you're a girl too and you're crying so maybe it's a girl thing."

"Boys cry too!" She argued and he just shook his head and grinned.

"Uh un. Last week when I cut my leg when AJ pushed me down, I didn't cry. And it was gushing blood and everything."

"Who's AJ?"

"My big brother. He's a big old turd because he won't let me play baseball with him and his friends cause he's eight and I'm only six." Then his eyes widened as if remembering, "How old are you anyways, I can't be playing with no babies."

"I'm not a baby," she shoved in the arm, making him fall over. "I'm six years old too."

"No you're not," he laughed, "Just about everyone at the party is in my cousin Sam's class at school so that means you're still in Kindergarden. So that means you're just a baby."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Brenda stood, planting her hands on her hips, "You take that back!"

"Nope," Jason rose slowly as well, snickering because she was getting angrier and angrier and her face was turning red. "In fact you're just a girl baby. And everybody knows girl babies are no fun at all!"

"I am fun." Her face screwed up in concentration, trying to think of a way to prove that she was more fun than any stupid boy. Then she remembered how he was pretending to do karate and doing those funny looking kicks and stuff. "I'll show you."

After a few minutes of watching her scream and jump, and more impressed than he would ever admit, Jason gave in. A little. "Fine, fine. Okay, you were pretty good," then he paused and smirked, "For a girl."

Furious, she balled up her fist and punched him in the stomach. "You! You, you big doody head!"

Even as he clutched his stomach that didn't stop the burst of giggles that erupted. In fact, he was laughing so hard he tilted over and fell, rolling over the ground as he shook with amusement and ignoring the angry look on her face. "What's so funny!" She demanded between pants trying to catch her breath. That ninja stuff was a lot harder than it had looked when he was doing it.

"You said doody."

_**OOxxOO**_

_**its just you and me  
on my island of hope  
a breath between us could be miles**_

let me surround you  
my sea to your shore  
let me be the calm you seek

He hated his family.

Well, maybe not everyone in his family. He loved his Grandmother Lila and his little sister Emily. And maybe his cousin Ned cause he was like a rock star and rock stars were the coolest so of course he liked Ned.

They weren't trying to send him off to some dumb boarding school with his older brother AJ. He didn't want to go across the world to Switzerland just because his mother and father were to busy screwing around with other people to be bothered with their kids. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what all the yelling and screaming was about. It was kinda hard not to, especially when they were constantly trying to kill each other.

Who was going to take care of Emily if he left? It was his responsiblity to be the big brother now that AJ was gone. Besides, he'd promised and AJ told him it was important to never go back on a promise.

If Alexis and Ned could be rock stars and run ELQ and keep all their bratty little kids with them, he couldn't understand why his parents couldn't just leave him alone. It wasn't like he was a bother. He got himself up for school every morning and got dressed. After breakfast, Reginald gave him a ride to school before spending the day with Grandmother. At school he was at the top of his class, the last B he got in a class was back in third grade because he caught the chicken pox and his dumb old teacher wouldn't let him take a make up test for the one he missed.

After school, he came home and did his homework. He put himself to bed every night at nine-thirty just like Grandfather demanded. So what was the big deal? It wasn't like he was in the way anyways.

And who was going to play short stop on his little league team this summer if he was gone? The guys depended on him because he was one of the best hitters on the team. They would never make it to the championships one man short. It was bad enough they had been forced to allow girls to play. All they cared about was standing around whispering and giggling. Not one of them could hit or catch and they all threw like, well, like girls.

"I hate them! It isn't fair!"

"What's not fair? Is this pity party for one or is anyone invited?"

Jason growled and rolled his eyes at the amused voice of his nemesis Brenda Barrett. At five, she was a pain in the ass. Kung Fu kicks aside, that is. He still would never admit she was pretty cool to have played pretend with him that day. When both of them had been punished for ruining their clean costumes they had grinned at each other knowing it had been worth it.

From that day forward, Brenda seemed to have made it her life's mission to get on his last nerves.

At twelve she was even worse.

She was different than the other girls his age, for that he was grateful. He could barely stand her as it was, the last thing he needed was her going all girly on him with the batting eyelashes and simpering smiles. And those annoying giggles. A grimace of disgust creased his face as he shivered shaking himself like a wet dog at the very thought. He would take a punch in the gut from Brenda any day.

"What's wrong, did Sam ditch you again to go play cootie kissing with Lucky Spencer?"

"Shut up," she snarled, shoving him in the shoulder. He resisted the urge to cover the spot for she would never let him live it down if she acutally realized how much those punches hurt. "You're just mad because no one would touch your lips with a ten foot pole."

"Thank God for that," he muttered, then chuckled softly so she wouldn't hear.

"Besides, the only reason I'm here is because Julia has a meeting with Alexis and I didn't want to sit in the penthouse alone waiting for her." But she didn't deny the fact that her best friend had probably ditched her just like he teased.

"So you sit out here in Grandmother's rose garden alone instead?"

"You're here," she shrugged, sitting down in the grass, ignoring the fact that she wore a pair of white jeans and a pink blouse with ruffles all over the place under a pink jacket. What was it with her and pink anyway? "So I'm not exactly alone."

"Yeah, well in two weeks you will be." He flopped down beside her, picking at the baseball cap he had yanked off his head on the way out of the house.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, if my stupid parents have their way, I'll be spending high school over in Switzerland at the same school AJ goes to."

Brown eyes widened in disbelief, "But AJ got kicked out of school and that's why he was sent away. You're on the honor roll!"

"Lot of good that did me, hun?"

"I'm sorry. About what I said before, I mean." She frowned, laying her head against his shoulder, "You're right it's not fair. They do whatever they want and don't even care about our feelings."

He had overheard Ned and Alexis talking about Brenda's parents and how they had practically abandoned her with Julia so they could go off traveling around the world. Every so often they would snatch Brenda out of school and she would spend a couple of weeks away then show up in school on a Monday morning as if nothing had happened.

The June she turned ten he had found her out here crying because they had missed her birthday but wanted her to spend the summer with them when she had already planned to go to camp with all of her friends.

"So, two weeks hun?"

"Yeah," he grunted, anger getting the best of him as he tossed the hat aside. "I was all excited about turning fourteen, but now, I guess I should have seen this coming. They probably were going to send me away regardless."

"You're going to miss baseball this summer too, aren't you. It's your last year."

"And I can't make fun of you either," he smiled, remembering how she always screamed when a ball came at her in the outfield. But she always caught it, he remembered.

"You're such a jerk," she sneered, standing up. "Here I was being perfectly nice to you and you have to mess it up."

"Hey, I was just kidding," he stood up as well, taking a few steps back because she wasn't above kicking with those pink and white sneakers she wore. He had the sore shins to prove it.

"You're such a-"

"Doody head," he interrupted, bursting into laughter. After a few seconds of trying to hold back, her tight expression relaxed, the carefree smile turning into a soft chuckle.

And he knew he was probably going to miss her most of all.

_**OOxxOO**_

_**oh and every time i'm close to you  
there's too much i can't say  
and you just walk away**_

"I can't believe that jerk left me to go chasing after his ex girlfriend." Brenda ripped the pink and white corsage off her wrist and threw it on the ground. "Karen," she drawled, as a leather bejeweled stiletto kicked it across the grass. "Darned thing wasn't even roses, I told him I liked roses and he brings me carnations. Jerk."

She should have known that when Jagger Cates asked her to the senior prom mere days after breaking up with his girlfriend of two years that something like this would probably happen. This was her luck after all. It didn't matter that she liked the guy and probably stared after him like a star struck little kid all year long. He probably only asked her out to make Karen jealous. The harpy hated her after all.

Too bad it worked like a charm.

"What did I do to deserve this?" She turned the poignant question to the twinkling stars in the night sky.

"Probably boiled some little kid's bunny like that psycho chick in that movie."

She had never been more grateful for a dark night than she was right this moment as embarrassment flushed her skin. Here she was in her beautiful pink georgette gown that she had designed herself, from it's shirred v-neck and split flutter sleeves to the fishtail hem and her date had stood her up for prom. Her thick dark hair had been perfectly styled to hang in long graceful curves over her shoulders. Even her father who was practically none existent in her life had contributed to the occasion with a diamond necklace with a delicate butterfly design pendant in pink diamonds and matching earrings.

The last thing she wanted to admit to her sister was being abandoned on prom night, so she climbed into her black Jag, another guilt gift from her father, and headed over to the Quartermaines. No matter what went wrong in her life, from her dead beat father to her screwed up love life, standing in Lila Quartermaine's rose garden always put things into perspective.

"Well, if it isn't the doody head," she sneered, finally regaining a bit of her composure, her guilty little secret having been discovered. "What are you doing here? The last I heard you were off in some third world country trying to save the world."

She would never admit how terrified she had been when she heard that Jason had joined the Navy instead of going to college and then on to medical school like his parents had always intended for him. Too bad they hadn't counted on their son growing a spine of steel when they sent him away from his family, friends and everything he held dear.

He wore a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days and a dark tee shirt that made him look tough lean and ripped. The last time she had seen him alone like this, he was telling her about his parents sending him away. That boy was years gone and the sexy man before her was almost a stranger. Until he smiled. Then those sky blue eyes gleamed with amusement and his lips curved into a smile that was the same from the first moment they stood here in his Grandmother's garden. Exactly the same.

"My family does live here." His voice was huskier, low and mellow but edged with control. "So what's your excuse?"

"I don't need one," she lifted a shoulder matter-of-factly. "I'm always welcome here. That's more than I could say for you."

Those cool blue eyes hardened briefly and she wondered if she had crossed the line there considering how his parents had practically evicted him from the Quartermaine mansion the day he turned fourteen. "True," he finally answered mockingly, "Then again, Quartermaines have never been known for their taste in people they associated with."

"Touche," she wrinkled her nose at him. "So what brings you back to Port Charles?"

"Visting Grandmother before I head out again. What about you? Unless they're starting to hold parties out here, you look a little overdressed for the rose garden."

"Prom date ditched me." Might as well get it out there so he could make fun of her and get it over with.

"Idiot's loss then."

She turned toward him, blinking at what had sounded suspiciously close to a compliement. "Yes it is. I don't know what I saw in him in the first place." If she wasn't thinking about the dark hair and the smoldering eyes. Or those cute dimples when he smiled. Boy did she have a thing for dimples. And his body, whew, Jagger Cates made the teenaged boys that attended her school look like mealy mouthed whimps when standing next to those broad shoulders and tight ass.

But then, Jason could give him a run for his money, she chuckled inwardly.

"So that's it then, you're just not going to your senior prom because some idiot stood you up? Isn't that like admitting failure?"

It grated on the nerves too. "What do you want me to do Jason? I refuse to show up alone, after telling everyone I was going with Jagger. If that isn't embarassing, it will be even worse watching him dance with Karen Wexler all night, making goo-goo eyes at her. While I'm standing on the side lines like a wall flower," she pffted loudly, "Forget about it."

"I'll take you."

She knew her eyes widened like saucers, but she couldn't help it. First the underhanded compliment and now this? "You?"

"Yeah, why not. I can't visit with Grandmother until she wakes up in the morning. Emily is out with friends. AJ is probably drunk in a bar somewhere. It's better than sitting around here waiting for my mother and father to start apologizing for messing up my life again."

"Oh, thank you for your generousity. It's either help me or being tortured."

"Helping you will probably be torture," his infectious grin belying his words. "But, I'm willing. Besides, think how it will look. I'll go upstairs and put on my dress uniform. We'll have Reginald bring around the Bentley."

"Eat your heart out Karen and Jagger. I'll be the only one there with a date that's not in high school. And Jagger definitely couldn't afford a Bentley," Brenda smiled having caught his meaning. "What are you waiting on, go get dressed. Prom started forty minutes ago."

"Yes, sir," he saluted before turning to leave.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?" At the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, and her gaze lowered to the ground.

This was a big deal, regardless of how he put it. "Thanks."

_**XXooXX**_

_**and i forgot  
to tell you  
i love you  
and the night's  
too long  
and cold here  
without you  
i grieve in my condition  
for i cannot find the words to say i need you so**_

It took him three days but he finally made it.

Jason Morgan had been deep undercover in Miami, working as a heroin trafficker, when the invitation showed up in his package of mail. Maybe it was fate that had him checking in on Jason Quartermaine's old life that Monday afternoon. But as he spilled the pile of mail onto the bed of his oceanview condo, the pink envelope had seemed to jump out at him.

He knew it was Brenda the second he saw that funky handwriting. For several seconds he could only stare at it, not wanting the man he had turned himself into for the job to touch someone as lovely and gentle as Brenda. There were things he had done in the name of law and order that he wasn't exactly proud of but working DEA meant he would occasionally get his hands bloodied if it meant stopping drugs from getting into innocent hands. His family had no idea that he'd left the service after his initial enlistment was over. Sometimes he felt it best that he kept his distance.

As he slipped the envelope open, he felt his heart skip a beat when he pulled out the wedding invitation.

And it wasn't because Brenda was marrying known mobster Michael _Sonny_ Corinthos either.

Jesus, he had been in love with Brenda so long, that somehow he'd never expect her to fall for someone else. To actually marry another man. Thinking back it probably started all those times in his Grandmother's rose garden. Maybe it was the night he took her to senior prom and how beautiful and delicate she looked when he had slid the blooming pink rose that he nipped from his Grandmother's prize winning bush into her hair behind her ear.

He hadn't thought about that night in years. Mostly beacause if he did, he would have to remember what it felt like to hold her in his arms while they were dancing. He would have to face how his body had reacted to the nearness of hers. The alluring scent of roses that mixed with a fragrance he could only identify as Brenda. Or he would remember how soft her lips felt when he kissed her good night and dropped her off at her sisters.

It was good that he had very little leave because he would have felt bad about running off without saying good bye.

And now she was getting married. The very least he could do was show up and wish her well even if part of him wanted to arrest the bastard who had won her heart.

Invitation clutched in his fist, he quietly slipped open the church doors, shaking the rain from his hair and feeling a little self conscious about the wet dripping from his leather jacket. Walking through the vestibule, he was surprised when he found the seats empty. A glance at his watched told him he was only twenty minutes late and given Brenda and her sense of the dramatic there was no way _her_ wedding was going to start on time.

And that's when he saw her.

A vision in white kneeling at the alter.

Alone.

As he made his way down the aisle, he could see she was shaking and could hear what he had missed.

Her sobs.

Never had he heard her cry this way before.

"Brenda?" But she was blind to his voice and too caught up in her pain to hear his voice. So he kneeled beside her, touching a careful hand to her shoulder. She flinched, turning her broken gaze to meet his and he felt his own heart begin to ache for her. A hand lightly cupped her face, brushing loose tendrils of hair away. "What happened?"

Clutched to her chest was a piece of paper that she held out to him with shaky hands. "He left me."

Bastard.

Careful of her reaction, he slipped it free from her grip, setting it on the floor, then pulled her into his arms. That seemed all she was able to stand as her tears began again, her thin body convulsing under the weight of her despair.

_**OOxxOO**_

_**oh and every time i'm close to you  
there's too much i can't say  
and you just walk away**_

Brenda raced through the hospital, blind to the commotion around her, knowing only one thing.

She had to get to him.

When had he become so important? When had he slipped so irrevocably into her heart?

And now he lay shot and possibly bleeding to death alone and there was nothing she could do but pray.

"Miss, you can't go in there?" A red headed nurse grabbed her arm before she could storm pass the closed curtain of the ER. The voice sounded familiar, even as the grip tightened and began pulling her away.

"No, he needs me." She pleaded, unaware of the tears that spilled from her eyes. "I have to be with him."

"Brenda, you can't go in there right now. Dr. Drake and Dr. Scorpio are doing everything they can for Jason. Right now, I need you to wait in the lounge with the rest of his family okay?"

Dark eyes blinked with confusion, "Bobbie?"

She couldn't stand the sympathetic pity shining in her eyes, "Yes, sweetie. You know Robin will do everything she can for Jason right?"

Robin. Right. Her best friend. She was one of the best surgeons in the hospital. If she was operating on Jason, then he would be fine. Besides, she told herself, Jason was strong. He would get through this.

The next several hours were a blur. Having stopped the major bleeding, Jason had been rushed up to surgery to try to remove the bullet that was lodged near his liver. A scant millimeter more and there would have been nothing anyone could do for him, Robin had told the family after surgery. The best of General Hosptial had worked on him and Jason had held his own.

How had this happened? The morning began so simply, and just like their usual routine. She met Jason at Kelly's diner near the waterfront, where they shared breakfast before she went to work at Deception Cosmetics and he went in to the PCPD, where he was working through the Department of Justice to clean up the mob activity in Port Charles.

She knew he took that job for her. Came back to Port Charles for her. Knew he worked so hard to pay Sonny back for hurting her so badly. Despite how dangerous his job could be, she never thought anyone would kill him for doing it.

It was strange now that she looked back on her relationship with Sonny and how terribly it had broken her. Now she couldn't understand how Sonny was capable of doing so much damage, not only to her heart but to her mind as well. She went through months of depression, feeling as though she couldn't live without Sonny until Jason demanded she see someone.

The last thing she wanted was to talk to a shrink but it probably was the best thing she had ever done. Those sessions helped her face things not only about Sonny but about herself. There she faced her abandonment issues and realized part of the reasons she had dated Sonny in the first place. He was an older man, powerful, an emotionally unavaliable at times. It had been a thumb in the face of everything her father had symbolized.

Now that she was over Sonny, the last thing she wanted was Jason to pay for her mistakes.

"You've been sitting here all night, Brenda. You should go home and get some rest."

The hand at her shoulder brought her from her worries and she looked into Robin's eyes, noting not only the concern for Jason but for her as well. "Tell me the truth. Is he going to pull through this?"

The petite brunette bit her lip, then sat down on the couch next to her. They were alone now, all of the Quartermaines had gone home hours ago, having heard Jason was stable in ICU. "Yes." And at her definite tone, Brenda could feel the fear in her stomach begin to release. "It was touch and go for a while. When I saw the location of the bullet entry, I was so scared," she confided not as a doctor but as one friend to another. "But he was lucky and we were able to remove it without any lasting damage. He'll be weak for a while but you know Jason, he will be up and on his feet in no time."

"Can I see him" She knew it was late and visiting hours were over. Not to mention she couldn't even claim the right of family. It was asking a lot of their friendship but if she was going to go home, she needed to at least see him first. "I'll only stay for a minute and I'll go home right after. Please Robin, I just need to look in on him."

"Fine," she conceeded, glancing around to see who was at the nursing station. The quick walk to ICU went in silence and unchallenged with Robin with her. "Just a few minutes. I'll be back before someone comes to check on him."

It was hard walking through the door. Even more so once she saw him laying in the bed connected to all the machines that were monitoring his vitals, giving medication and helping him to breathe. This man was so different than one of mere hours before. The Jason who held out her chair for her, teased her about her still calling him that silly nickname after all of these years.

Jason who was normally so vibrant and alive.

This pale drawn man was not her Jason.

"You know," she began, licking her lips to cover the crack of emotion in her voice. "I don't know if I ever told you how much it meant to me that you showed up to my wedding. I sent you that invitation mostly because no one had heard from you in months. But I knew."

She gulped hard, swallowing back tears that wanted to slip free. "I knew if you got it you'd come back. How did I know? I've noticed something about us, you know. Whenever one of us has ever really needed the other we always managed to make back to each other. To Lila's garden. You were there when I needed you most of all and I'll never forget that Jason. You've always been there when I needed you most."

The machine keeping track of his heart rate was her only response. Undetered she thread her fingers through his. "Jason please wake up. Please," she begged, squeezing his hand. "You better not leave me here all by myself, you big doody head, or I'll never forgive you."

When Brenda felt the slight squeeze against her fingers in return, she found the courage to whisper, "I love you."

_**and i forgot  
to tell you  
i love you  
and the night's  
too long  
and cold here  
without you  
i grieve in my condition  
for i cannot find the words to say i need you so**_

_Fin_


	8. Joshua Tree

Plot and Week #3: Pursuit car, lifetime, sin  
Couple: Ric Lansing and Elizabeth Webber

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ**_

_**Joshua Tree**_

_**"You know he got the cure..but then went astray..."**__  
--Exit, U2_

This was terribly wrong.

Pale hands trembled holding the printed out sin utterly reprehensible to the cobalt eyes aborbing the information with photographic precision.

And now a five minute change of plans would alter the course of Dr. Elizabeth Webber's life forever.

Lunch that afternoon was spent at her desk pouring over notes for her latest project. So when Nadine, a collegue of almost five years, had offered to grab her a sandwich and a bowl of soup from her usual cafe Elizabeth had been grateful she wouldn't have to waste time in her car battling midday traffic. This way she would be able to compile the latest statics from the Chimpanzee observations and work up a viable plan for the next stage in testing.

At ten minutes to eleven later on that evening, her eyes were finally blurring with three days worth of fatigue and she decided to call it a night. Normally this close to a Stage Two, she would spend the night on the small leather couch in her office and work through until she felt she had covered all possible outcomes. Tonight she realized she had run out of changes of clothes and she really wanted a steamy hot bath instead of the luke warm showers she endured in the cramped stall in the bathroom connected to her office.

It was mere chance that she remembered leaving her pocket book in the staff kitchen where she reimbursed Nadine for picking up her lunch and grabbed one of her usual liters of Diet Pepsi from the fridge to head back to her office. As she walked through the shadowed lab, it wasn't a suprise to realize she wasn't alone. She wasn't the only one who liked to work through the night until a project was completed. It was however a shock to hear Dr. Ian Devlin, a man she trusted, on the phone speaking in low tones about her project and an obscene amount of money that was due to change hands in less than forty-eight hours.

The smart thing to do, would have been to confront him in the morning but being a genius with over a 200 score IQ didn't mean she always made smart decisions. In any case, this dumb move would probably be the one thing that saved her life. She followed the toxicology specialist back to his office trying to listen in on the remainder of his conversation. When it became clear he was done, she ducked into a cubical across the room and waited.

Certain she was alone finally, she snuck into the office, surprised that Dr. Devlin had left it open. It only took five minutes of searching to come upon information about her project that no one but her was supposed to have. A quick dash back to her office and back so she could retrieve a zip drive, and she downloaded the data she had succesfully hacked from his private files on his computer.

Back in her office she faultered in the silence as what she thought would be mere theft had turned into something more lethal and on a global scale.

Devlin had taken all of her precious research, all of the hours she had poured out her very soul and perverted it. She had sacrificed everything for this project. Time spent with her family. Neglected relationships with her friends.

Her eyes cut to the five by nine picture frame sitting on her desk. Dark wavy hair that curled like silk against her fingertips. A smile that could always lighten up the most hectic of days. Those depthless eyes that had always liked to watch her sleeping, had always gazed upon her with such loving tenderness. In her determination, she had lost the one who loved and understood her best of all.

Joshua Tree was supposed to save lives. Dr. Ian Devlin had mutated what could have been a safe and highly efficacious vaccine into a virus so deadly if released into the atmosphere would have almost the same devastaing effect as the Black Plague. Worse was the fact that a vaccine was only in trial stages and so far each attempt had resulted in failure.

Terrified, she grabbed everything from her office. All her notes from her project, written, tapes and on zip drive, and anything else and shoved it down into the backpack she carried to work everyday. Then made sure she had all the information about Devlin's treachery. As she slipped her wool coat over her white lab jacket and the neat grey pantsuit she wore to work this morning, she knew there was no going back to her apartment tonight. She couldn't take that chance.

There was only one man who could help her now.

_**XXooXX**_

Ric Lansing didn't want to believe the words his boss had told him mere hours ago.

Yet the file currently spread across his coffee table told him all of his disbelief, all of his confidence in her integrity was all for naught.

Mellow Sundays spent spooned in bed in each other's arms before lingering over a lazy French Toast and cafe au lait brunch were not enough to disprove the hard facts in his hands. Remembering the warm honey of her mouth, the way her slender body fit perfectly against his and how she cried out his name with such passion as they made love could not be used in her defense.

How had things gone so terribly wrong?

And why hadn't she come to him before getting drawn so deeply into this mess that he couldn't dig her out. Despite their divorce, she had to know that he would always be there for her. Their marriage hadn't broken to pieces because they didn't love each other. Obsession drove them apart. Her and her experiments. He and the law.

When they were good, they were unbeatable. Most days they could have entire conversations without speaking a word to each other. If they were at a friend's party, she could be half way across the room and he would still be able to finish her sentence. Making love was like the finest of symphonies, with all of it's movements to evoke powerful emotions that could make the heart race.

When they were bad, the wave of mistakes built until crashing with all the deadly force of a tsunami. Arguements turned into screaming matches complete with flying glass. Everything said was taken the wrong way or blown out of proportion. Sex became cold and empty or nonexistant as each clung to their edge of the bed in the dark shadows of the growing valley between them.

The last project had been their final downfall. He was assigned a case in northwestern Arizona to investigate a rumored religous sect who were sacrificing children to a supposed sun god. And she found her Holy Grail. He knew when she finally found the one project that would mean everything to her that she would pour her heart and soul into it. He knew this.

So why had it come as a surprise, the lack of phone calls, the distance, the nights she spent in her office working. The night his team stormed the Apollo compound but failed to stop the senseless murder of four toddlers, his understanding ran out. He had needed her, the comfort of her arms, just the sound of her voice to reassure him that the world wasn't as sick and depraved as the things he had seen. To be given the icy brush off, to have some fucking monkeys be more important than their marriage had been more than he could stomach.

Now look what her precious Joshua Tree had become.

He would always wonder if he had pressed harder, if he had passed on that case to another agent, if things would have turned out differently.

The irony that she would name her vaccine after the trees that were located in the area where he had been working wasn't lost on him. He scanned the photos of the virus Joshua Tree had become and could see the resemblance. That symmetry wouldn't have been lost on her. The deadliest part of the virus, the way it would actively attack anything that tried to stop it, then hibernate and mutate, was merely apart of the genius that was his ex-wife.

He never thought his love for the law would break his heart so completely. Just the thought of his love in hand cuffs or behind bars made him sick to the stomach.

Needing to get the bad taste out of his mouth, he walked through his tiny but efficent apartment to the kitchen for a beer. By the time the doorbell rang, he had already taken several long draws. When the pounding began, he was glad he hadn't taken off his gun.

"Just a minute," he called out, annoyed that someone was making so much noise this late. Not that his neighbors cared. Nikolas next door was probably out working late and he could still hear the rumblings of the party across the hall that Kate had invited him to. It was obvious the person at the door hadn't heard him because the pounding continued.

"Hold your horses," he muttered, his frayed jeans a whisper as he crossed the hardwood floors. As a precaution a hand was already braced on the barrel of the Walther nine millimeter he carried in a left shoulder holster over the fitted black v-neck sweater. Who ever it was caught him off guard and he didn't have a chance to slip his bare feet in shoes.

He certainly hadn't been expecting to see her at the door. A virtual lifetime of memories and heartwrenching emotions slammed into him from the mere sight of those startling cobalt eyes. But the mixture of fear and anger in her beautiful face turned those confusing feelings into something he didn't want to examine too closely. In response, it made his voice coolly disapproving.

"Izzy?"

_Fin_


	9. Need 4 Speed

Plot and Week #16: Sacrifice barely, hear, know  
Couple: Patrick Drake and Robin Scorpio

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN  
**_

_**Need For Speed**_

_**"If you ain't first, you're last." --Ricky Bobby, Talledega Nights**_

The sun was high, a scorching ninety four degrees in a clear blue sky with nary a cloud in sight. The heat wave over the past four days was still in effect, having baked the concrete until waves of hot oppressive air wafted upwards to torment any who dared venture outside.

None of the more than one hundred eighty thousand people in the stands gave a damn.

"It's a hot one today here at Dayton International Speedway and the crowd is enjoying one heck of a race. But then again when Patrick _'The Maverick'_ Drake is behind the wheel, things are always guaranteed to be interesting," the announcer joked over the PA system, getting shouts of approval from the crowd.

The rumble of engines gradually built into a untenable roar as the blur of colors raced high on the curve then stormed the straightaway, each one maneuvering for better position. Hundreds of pounds of metal under the direction of skilled fingers flying more than one hundred miles per hour under the threat of crash and burn had drawn a packed stadium despite the sweltering temperatures.

_**oo**_

_"What do you mean, you're not coming down to the pit? Damn it Robin, I need you there!"_

Patrick Drake paced the small enclosed space, long and lean in his royal blue and yellow jumpsuit tagged with multicolored patches from different companies across the chest with the America Online logo sprayed across his sinewy back and down the length of his right leg. His normally devilishly handsome face was creased with a snarl of frustration, as a hand dragged through dark choppy hair leaving it unruly.

Robin and Patrick Drake were the sweetheart couple of NASCAR racing circuit and had been for the last four years since The Maverick had taken the sport by storm. The stories said they met one Saturday afternoon when Patrick was rushed to the emergency room after a spectacular crash. Dr. Robin Scorpio was head of the ER at the hospital and when the two met sparks flew.

Drake with his playful smile and teasing eyes was unconscious when brought in but by the time Dr. Scorpio walked into his cubicle had come around and was flirting with the nursing staff. She had proceeded to order a full round of tests for the driver, including an unneeded enema when he turned his roving eyes in her direction.

The two butt heads for six months before Robin finally admitted to the mutal attraction and consented to one date. The rest was racing history. Drake dominated the field with his Doc at his side, ending with a romantic and widely publicized proposal when Drake sped to his first Indy victory.

"It doesn't seem that way to me," the petite brunette answered from her side of the crowded trailer. Instead of her usual complimenting outfit, she wore a pair of old jeans and a dark pink tank top with her own dark hair scraped back into a ponytail. Proof that she had no intention of joining her husband for one of his biggest races of the season. "Why don't you try asking that bleached blonde big breasted bimbo who clung to you all last night to be your support system. It doesn't seem like you need me at all."

"You're my wife, of course I need you. As for that girl last night, what did you want me to tell the sponsor, Robin, 'could you please tell your daughter, your precious Angel, his words not mine, to go away.' That would have gone over really well with the man who spends millions of dollars on my racing team each year."

"It was insulting."

"And you think I enjoyed having her hanging over me for hours," he frowned, pissed that she would think otherwise. He could remember how much he had been looking forward to the party. Both dressed in his racing blue, his beautiful wife so damned sexy in that dress. Uptilted breasts shapely above the fitted top tapering to a narrow waist that his hands could easily span and agilely rounded hips, had made his mouth water when she stepped from the bathroom of their hotel suite.

He would have much prefered to spend the evening in bed playing with the corkscrews she had curled into her hair. Instead he waited while she adjusted his pencil thin blue tie and promised they would try to escape early. It was important for him to attend these functions this year since he was considering retiring, though he hadn't spoken to his wife about his thoughts just yet.

Maverick racing had a good run and he would rather go out on top. Not that he would leave racing all together, because this was the career he had dreamed of most of his life. He didn' t have to be behind the wheel though. Besides, he had seen the longing looks in his wife's brown eyes when she looked at other women with children. Their hectic lifestyle wasn't exactly condusive to raising a family when his entire life was a virtual adrenaline rush.

Robin had compromised on a lot to be married to him and she had stood faithfully at his side as the most important person of his team. Now he wanted to give the same back to her, the opportunity to focus on her career. Children. One last great year and he could retire knowing he had accomplished all of his life's goals and could begin to make new ones. With her.

"Do you know how irritating it is to have people think they're entitled to touch all over you? To suffer through hours of that insanely high pitched squeaking laughter and the fact that she had the IQ of an empty glass certainly was entertaining."

"I didn't hear you protesting, Patrick. In fact, if you had smiled any more your face would have cracked. You looked like you were having a great time!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's all apart of the game. Robin, we've been married for four years, you know the routine by now. You know it's all superficial nonsense."

"Well maybe I don't appreciate some woman fawning all over my husband! Or my husband flirting back!"

"It wasn't like that at all and you know it." Maybe before they were married he had been a dog, but not after Robin. His wedding vows meant something to him. They were promises. Promises that he rarely made because he hated breaking his word. He had spent his entire childhood with broken promises that he had vowed never to make one he couldn't keep. Marriage to Robin was the ultimate vow and he couldn't imagine ever breaking it.

"And the fact that you don't seem to understand how I feel makes it worse, Patrick."

_**oo**_

"The Maverick has been driving rather conservatively this afternoon, riding comfortably in third behind Edwards and Biffle."

"You're right Bob," his partner agreed, "Normally by this lap, Drake would have taken the lead and the others would be playing catch me if you can with the speed demon."

The audience agreed, cheering wildly for their favorite. Chanting could be heard in the background, as one particularly eager section clapped for the beloved driver, the entire front row holding up signs of encouragement enblazoned with his name.

Meanwhile the pit team looked on worriedly because they knew the announcers were right. Something was up with The Maverick. The quiet fear in Patrick's eyes as he climbed into his car and the absence of his wife had been more than telling. Since getting hitched, the petite beauty had been by Patrick's side for almost every race. The only thing that kept her away was if she in surgery and unable to get away. Everything had seemed fine with the couple the night before at the prerace party, so what could have changed in the last few hours to put Drake off his game.

"Mav, I'd rather air on the side of caution. Bring it in for a pit," Lucky Spencer, pit boss of Maverick racing spoke into the mic and earphone set to the driver currently flying into the next curve.

"It's fine," came the irritated response, "Don't shit around with me Lucky."

"Then what the hell are you doing out there," was the growl in return. "All that prep for this race and you're going to creep in at third?"

"I know what I'm doing."

"Ya, ain't doing shit, that's what you're doing. Now how about you get me a woody and make me feel it."

A rough bark of laughter filled his ears, "Ooh, baby, you know just how to get me going," and Lucky could hear that some of the tension had drained from Patrick's voice. "I know how you like it. Fast and hard. Just like this."

And the crowd rose from their seats when the blue streak slid from it's comfortable wall postion and began eating up the track.

_**oo**_

Dr. Robin Drake was slipping the key into the igniton of the sedate Tahoe and rolling down the window to let some of the oppressive heat escape the interior when she heard the roar from the stadium. A shaky hand wiped a tear from smooth skin as she bit into her lower lip to halt the sob that threatened to break free.

"See, I told you, you didn't need me," she murmured, leaning her head back and letting the AC blow cold air across her face.

It would take at least thirty minutes to make it back to the hotel and pic up her things and if she hurried, she just might make the flight back to New York she had booked from her cell phone while sitting in the trailer watching Patrick make his rounds with the press. It wasn't until the same stupid girl from the night before had rushed over and threw herself at Patrick that she had even considered leaving.

Not that she believed anything was going on between him and the blonde, even Patrick had better taste than her if he had intended to cheat. No, it was the murmurs from the night before that hurt. How she was holding him back. How there were rumors that he was considering quitting for her when he was at the top of his game. How it would be such a shame for him to give up his dream.

She wasn't crazy, she knew he was considering retirement even if he hadn't come right out and said so. They had been together for four years and in all of that time and close confinement had been a forced intimacy that allowed for no secrets. She knew when he was annoyed with someone on his team because he would shake his leg while reading through one of those spy thrillers he kept a book case of. If he was excited, then he overflowed with it and making love became a four hour marathon where he was barely sated and she was limp and glowy.

Any problems, he always talked them out with her and she had been happy to be his sounding board because she knew he would give her the same. Though he wasn't in the medical field, his father Noah, was a neurosurgeon, so Patrick was used to hearing the jargon. He had even entered college Pre-med before his racing took him away from education and toward the life he now led.

Which brought her right back to her problems.

NASCAR was her husband's dream and she didn't want him to give that up for her and regret it later. When they first met, he had gleamed with promise and potential. It was part of the reason why she held back for so long. She understood no one could be torn in two directions at once and achieve all Patrick sought in his career. Medicine was her life and she couldn't imagine being unable to practice or how to balance their complex relationship with an already demanding career. Not to mention two careers.

It had taken her mother's adivce to give her the strength to compromise and she didn't regret her decision. But now she didn't know what direction their marriage was headed and having that woman fawning all over him, cooing words of adoration was the final blow. She didn't want him to give up everything and then hate her for it later. She loved him too much to ever be able to take those eyes that had watched her with such loving adoration glare at her with hate and animosity.

"Patrick," she whispered, tears blurring her vision. She stilled, a hand lowering to the twist in her gut. The crash of thunder came seconds later, along with the gasps of dismay from the stadium.

She was racing from the truck seconds later.

_**oo**_

_"I don't understand? Robin, I love you, of course I understand."_

"Then you'll know why I'm going back home. I need some time to think Patrick. Without all of your Maverick fans and the press snapping pictures in my face."

"To think?" he asked and she could hear the edge of uncertainty in his voice now. "Think about what? Think about us?" he finished quietly, as if unable to believe the words.

"Yes," she sighed, "I'll see you at the end of the month and we can talk."

"I don't understand, I mean this is coming out of no where! You're hitting me with this two hours before my race starts!"

"I know and I'm sorry."

"I can't do this right now," he grabbed his had from the counter and stalked to the door. "I have to go out there and," he paused frowning, "I can't drive without you, you know that. Even when you were working, you were there with me. I could feel you. But now," he shook his head, eyes glittering with wetness. "Now, it's like you're already gone Robin and I don't know what I did to make you leave me."

And he walked out the door before she could tell him he had done nothing but love her.

_**oo**_

The mangled snarl of metal and the black smoke billowing upward was the first thing she saw. "No," she whispered, her feet moving her through the crowd, elbows slamming into people to get them out of her way as she barely dodged obstacles in her path.

No. It couldn't be.

But the ache in her heart told her otherwise.

She didn't need her passes to make it through security. Her face was almost as familiar as Patrick's on the racing tracks. One of the older guards recognized her immediately and grabbed her arm pulling her through the tangle of viewers, running her through to the area of the track she was seeking.

A medic team was on the field by the time she touched grass. Faultering, she watched them cautiously settle Patrick on a stretcher, already working animatedly as two moved him toward the ambulance. "I'm coming with you," her foot balanced to step inside the vehicle just as one technician reached to close the door.

"We could use the help Dr. Drake," a calm faced woman agreed while she hooked the IV line up to run into Patrick's arm.

Robin didn't know how she would be of any help when her heart was pounding and her mind was a blur of emotion but she sat down next to her husband and prayed to find the strength to do so.

His face was covered with blood, though she could see it was from a head injury and those tended to bleed badly no matter how severe they were. Instincts gradually began kicking in, as years of training and working to heal overcame a wife's terror. Orders were issued, trying to stablize the patient for the trip to the emergency room. This accident was so different from when they first met.

Before, Patrick hadn't the red snarl of burns on his face. His jumpsuit wasn't ragged and torn, dark in some spots from blood. His helmet had probably saved his life this time, despite the brutal gash one EMT managed to clean, though Robin could tell the nasty twist of his leg would probably be the end of his career for the season if not for life.

And that is, if there weren't other life threatening injuries that would take him away completely.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered into his ear, the wife overshadowing the doctor as her heart banged against her ribs at the thought of losing him. Her fingers closed around his, squeezing to show she hadn't left him after all. To say she would always be there and to please forgive her. "I love you Patrick and you're going to be okay."

Her lower lip trembled with sorrow, guilt a heavy burden on her shoulders, when she felt the light squeeze back.

_Fin_


	10. All I Want

Plot and Week # 18: Wretched Excess crazy, style, devoid  
Couple: Nikolas and Gia

Rated R  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**_

_**All I Want**_

"Nikolas, I'm so glad you could take the time out of your busy day to come over and sign those insurance papers."

Nikolas Cassadine acknowledged the incomparable Kate Howard, publisher of the popular Crimson magazine and queen of style with a nod. She rose gracefully from her leather chair and crossed the wide desk to greet him with a smile and a handshake. It was nothing to take the few hours from a relatively unoccupied day to venture to the Metro Court offices, better than sitting back at Wyndemere climbing the walls with boredom while he waited for his son to wake from his afternoon nap.

Since Emily's death, most of his days were spent either with Spencer or working so this change of pace was welcome. In the beginning, he had Nadine for company but after she had quite shyly explained that her feelings for him were moving beyond the friendship he offered, he thought perhaps it might be wise to place a bit of distance between them. He would regret the loss, yet he wasn't able to offer her anything in return and to continue to occupy her time simply because he hated being alone wasn't fair to her.

Then there was the brief liaison with Claudia Zacchara that ended abruptly and rather badly. Instinctual needs had sparked the ill fated attraction, which the femme fatale had happily reciprocated. Their little tango while sexually satisfying was never meant to extend beyond a few hours here and there in the bedroom. What he hadn't anticipated was her sudden declaration of affection, so when he'd told her that he would never love any woman the way he had loved Emily he wasn't quite surprised when she stormed out of the mansion slinging threats of reprisal in her wake.

It was days like this when he missed Emily most. Just the simplicity of her company, where he could be with her and have not only his heart content but his body and spirit as well.

"It was no problem Kate," though he had been hesitant at first when she approached him with the business proposition. His first query had been why she hadn't turned to her business partner Jax, for certainly the man had access to various properties at his disposal.

If not Jax, then certainly her on again off again relationship with Sonny would have proven fruitful. Kate was insistant upon something in Greece for her Spring layout and when Lulu mentioned he owned an island just off the coast, that made the final decision for the demanding fashionista.

"I just wanted to thank you again for allowing Crimson to use the island for the photoshoot. And perhaps to change your mind about coming to see the results of your generousity."

"No but thank you. Under your supervision I'm sure everything will go well. I have instructed the guards and household staff to prepare for your arrival. If there are any problems, anyone there will be capable of seeing to your needs."

"Are you certain, Nikolas?" She paused with a concerned smile. Over the past days of conversation and negotiation, he was able to say that he and Kate were friendly if not well on their way toward the ease of that relationship.

In that time, neither had spoken much of their personal lives but as highly publicized individuals, neither were ignorant of the various trials and tribulations each had faced. Kate might not come right out and say he needed the time away from Port Charles, but that simple turn of lip held a wealth of unspoken.

"The legal precautions you've drawn up are fine. I don't need to play guard dog with the island. I trust your people will be absolutely professional."

"Of course," her confident smirk wasn't ill placed. If anyone else had approached him about such a partnership, he would have immediately refused. Kate Howard's reputation in business was impeccable. So he felt comfortable in the knowledge that his property was in safe hands.

Not that he held many precious memories of the island of his birth. Cassadine heritage made such sentiment virtually impossible. Certainly no memories of a cherished mother and father remained in Greece. No doting grandparents. His Uncle Stefan had been the closest thing to a parent he'd ever had on the island and he had loved him but within the duplicity and psychopathic tendencies of his family even those emotions were tarnished. Now he was torn between nostalgia and mild distaste for the place.

"Your home will be in good hands, Nikolas, you can depend upon that."

It took mere moments to glance through the final documents both his Aunt Alexis and Kate's lawyer Diane had drawn up, an instant longer for both he and Kate to apply their signatures. In the space of that time, Nikolas' gaze flickered across the photos spread from a manilla folder on Kate's desk and he felt something faded and mildly intrigued shimmer to life in his chest.

Known for her perceptiveness, Kate noticed where his attention had been drawn and leaned over to lift the glossy and offer it to him. "Isn't she beautiful? Of course I was surprised to know she was originally from Port Charles, but it was quite the coup to get her to agree to do the layout."

Nikolas took the photograph with a tentative hand, "Yes she's quite beautiful."

"What most people don't know is she was her refusal to rejoin the modeling world. She was working as a barrister in London at the time when Mario Testino met her at one of Klein's shows. The modeling world credits him for bringing her back into the fold."

He wasn't familiar with the fashion industry. A long time ago, that world had been a very large part of his life but he had shoved any connection to it into his past and never dared look at it again. It was part of the reason he had initally been hesitant about working with Kate but Lulu had practically begged, using the little sister card with Spencer ease and he had caved thinking his previous connection would never be brought to light.

How wrong he had been.

"Since her return, she refused to return to the States to work and with her face and popularity, she's been quite fortunate to pick and choose her assignments. Crimson is lucky to work with her."

Her.

The woman in the photograph hadn't changed over the years. Her face having matured perhaps, refined like a perfect glass of the champagne she had once been so fond of. Instead of the braids he remembered, her dark hair swung freely about her proud shoulders. A once seductive young body became, warm and fiery, nubile curves. From the mischieveous gleam in her eyes, she was still perfectly aware of the appreciative glances she drew and confident in her ability to hold that attention for as long as she deemed worthy.

It was one of the things many people didn't like about her. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her.

For despite that layer of arrogance, he could see the soft vulnerablity she tried to hide. He could remember it in those wide expressive eyes when she awakened in bed next to him, where it was so exquistely inviting to burn in the fire she kindled. There were flickers of it when people were cruel and she resorted to harsh words to defend herself. When the family she cared for hurt her.

When their relationship eventually fell apart.

Her.

_Gia._

"Were you living in Port Charles during the time she resided here as well, Nikolas?" From Kate's curious expression, it was obvious she had noted his intense perusal of the photograph.

"Yes, I knew Gia," he murmured, not quite sure what he felt seeing her face again. He had loved Emily, and had she not been murdered, they would probably be married again. Emily was the love of his life, this he firmly believed, and he would never love another woman like he had loved her.

Yet Gia...

A slow knowing smile spread across Kate's face, "Are you sure you won't be joining us in Greece then?"

_**XXooXX**_

"Well, if it isn't the Cassadine Prince himself. I thought this ostentatious interior looked familiar," a slender hand waved broadly to indicate the excess in the drawing room he had never been comfortable with. "I've never experiencd a place more devoid of warmth than one the Cassadine's touched, no matter how beautiful it is."

Nikolas was still questioning his sanity after twenty-four hours alone on the island. There was no way to justify his presence here. His inital confidence in Kate's authority was spot on, so there was no reason why he needed to fly over to the island a day ahead of time and certainly none for him to stay.

Using a vacation for Spencer as an excuse wouldn't hold either. If anything, the people and cameras would be a hinderance to any private time he would have with his son. Currently ensconced in the west wing, his son was happily enjoying indoor playtime after his morning ride was cut short by mild rainshowers, oblivious to his father's inner turmoil.

The sun must have returned, for Gia stood before him now in pristine white, her honey skin glowing in contrast. The traveling suit, with it's high waisted wide leg pants and cropped single breasted jacket, fit her perfectly, and he could well imagine the confidence and authority she exued in a courtroom.

"It's good to see you again, Gia," he nodded and his words were absolute truth. For the first time in months there was this simmering anticpation twisting in his gut. It was familiar and quite welcome, he had been startled to realize. Finally it had flared brightly when she walked through the door and he had been stricken silent with the sheer power her presence still had on him after all of these years.

"I wish I could say the same." The brow she lifted, taunted him, made him want to lick his lips. She always managed to bring out this side of him. A part of him was wary of. A side he worked very hard to repress in fear he could turn into something dark and twisted like the other men in his family. "I must have been crazy to go near anything related to Port Charles."

Gia pushed.

Gia teased.

Gia dared.

And every masculine instinct in him wanted to respond.

To grasp.

To ravish.

To plunder.

They stared across the room at each other, tension swelling and waiting to crash with all the intensity of massive tidal wave. The others who had been close behind her had drifted away during their silent match of wills, uncomfortable with the near suffocating intent in both their eyes. Bright eyes raked boldly over the perfectly tailored black shirt and trousers he had donned for the day missing nothing while his slowly returned the favor.

Full sensual lips parted to draw in a breath, while his nostrils flared in answer and the light twist at the corner of her mouth spoke more loudly than any words ever could. Despite everything, the attraction, the wanting, was still there. And it probably always would be.

"I heard about Emily," she snapped the invisible thread winding around them with a vicious twist of a verbal blade. "I'm sorry for your loss."

What could he say to that reminder? And how did he deal with the guilt creeping up his spine as all he and Emily had shared was suddenly being challenged by Gia's mere presence. Neither Nadine nor Claudia had this effect on him. Not even his brief affair with Courtney had the power to question his feelings for Emily and that had resulted in the birth of his son.

So what was it about Gia that vexed him so?

And did he have the courage to find out?

_Fin_


	11. Never See Me Again

Rated: R  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Plot and Week #19: Ascension taunt, loyal, murmur  
Couple: Ric Lansing and Lainey Winters

* * *

_**Never See Me Again**_

_**"So every time you hold me, hold me like this is the last time. Every time you kiss me, kiss me like you'll never see me again. Every time you touch me, touch me like this is the last time. Promise that you'll love me, love me like you'll never see me again."—Alicia Keys**_

_"I am the villain of the story."_

The cruelly uttered words were punctuated by the explosive resonance of gunfire. The weapon wrenched hard in his grip, searing heat into the skin in his palm before his fingers adjusted to aim and release another volley of bullets. Blood spread quickly across a pristine white canvas and his vision narrowed watching in cold detachment as the body slowly collapsed under the weight of death to the ground.

There weren't many regrets in his life but as he jerked from the familiar nightmare, former CIA operative Ric Lansing could feel the weight of murder on his shoulders gradually begin to lift.

He would never forget the look of betrayal in his brother's eyes when Sonny realized just how wrong he had been to trust in the newfound brother who had walked into his life two years before. It had been difficult to get the international arms dealer to trust him but eventually the charming smile and earnestness had been accepted into the small Corinthos family.

"Nothing is more important than family," Sonny had finished proudly and clapped him on the back in a brisk affectionate hug after introducing him to the rest of his organization. "Our mother would be proud to see that her sons were reunited."

The words had been a fiery blade into the depths of his heart.

For despite the criminal tendencies of the man he had been ordered to infiltrate and bring to justice, their natures had been remarkably similar. Family. Trust. Loyalty. They were values each based their lives upon. Depended upon to keep them sane in the violent turbulence of the world neither could 

escape. Each so very similar, determined to succeed, ruthless when needed and not afraid to use any means necessary to accomplish a goal. Brothers in a way that proved sometimes blood would out.

Months he spent conflicted, torn between the loving man Michael Corinthos Jr. who was tender to his wife and cherished each of his children and Sonny Corinthos who could without wavering, order the murder of any man who crossed him and in such a brutal fashion that it could clench the gut in fear and disgust for days afterwards.

And in his pursuit of the better man deep inside his brother, he had almost lost himself. Lines blurred as the affection and acceptance the orphaned little brother sought warred with the duty he had sworn to not only the law but to his country.

When he received the order to pull out, he ignored it for three months not wanting to give up the family he had found. Lily, the sister he'd always craved, who liked to mother him. Michael and Adela, the niece and nephew who looked up to him.

And always, always, Sonny.

Then there was Lainey.

Lainey of the immeasurable beauty and fathomless eyes. Lainey whose father Sonny ordered killed simply because he refused to bow under the pressure of the Cornithos organization. Lainey who had spit in Sonny's face and called him a monster as the man she adored bled to death in her arms.

_His hand covered her mouth before she could shriek, pulling her tight against his body to halt the violent struggle of her body. "Listen to me! Listen!" His harsh whisper went unheard as she continued to thrash against his hold. The hammering of her heartbeat pounded against his chest, the sounds of her muffled panting filling the darkened bedroom._

A pale slash of light from the bathroom revealed the silken mocha skin not covered by the cotton tank nightgown. A direct contrast to his own tanned skin but even as her slender fingers gripped at his in a desperate need for freedom, it appealed to something deep inside of him.

Finally she stilled, though her body was pulled taught as a string. "If I let you go, will you promise not to scream and actually listen to what I have to say?"

A fierce shake of her head in denial brushed damp raven curls against his face, leaving the scent of vanilla and almonds in their wake. Once again, she struggled until he was forced back to a wall and into the shadows he had stepped out of to surprise her. The full length of her slammed into him and despite everything, the precariousness of their situation, his body flinched with awareness. "Lainey, damn it, you have to listen to me."

His lips brushed against her ear and she immediately stilled, "Please listen to me. Please, I just want to help you. I need to help you. Sonny's furious and he's going to kill you because you've been making too much noise, drawing too much attention to his business. I can't let him do it." His voice choked off, the memory of her father's death filling his head and the fucking guilt he felt for not doing his job when he had the opportunity. "Please, I, I have to make this right."

For the longest time, he thought she would refuse again, and then she gave one slow nod as all the 

_tension in her body seemed to slowly drain away. He released the grip from her waist, arms slackening, as his hand fell free last before she was completely out of his arms. As she turned to face him he stiffened, knowing she would recognize his face. She searched through the darkness then lifted a hand to snap on the light in the closet next to him._

The blinding slap across his face was accompanied by her furious scream.

"You bastard!"

"I know."

"You murdering bastard, you stood there and watched him kill my father-"

"I know."

"And you have the nerve to show your face here-"

"I know. I KNOW! I KNOW!" He roared silencing her accusations, "Don't you think I know it! I have to live with it, live with what I've done when I could have stopped it." He closed his eyes, heart aching with guilt and despair. "I could have stopped it and I didn't and it's my fault. God it's my fault."

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was cold. So very cold.

Different from the warm kindness that infused her words earlier that afternoon as he watched her with some of the children at the medical clinic she worked at. From the very first he had been drawn to her. His loyalty to Sonny as he staked out her routine, her father's routine so he could report back in direct opposition to the way his eyes would be drawn to her and the gentle way she cared for her patients and the smile that made something warm clench in his chest.

He had done this to her and even though he wanted to save her, he knew she would never forgive him. But he would do what he should have done months ago. Somehow he would salvage the man who had lost himself in the mire of Sonny Corinthos' hell and it would begin with Lainey Winters.

He would break his heart to save his very soul.

His wide palmed hand gripped the empty space of the bed next to him as he struggled to bring the racing of his heart under control. A clenched fist was brought to his chest to rub at the ache there, as he looked outside of the large bay window to see the twilight sky of sunrise. He would never forget the look on her face when he raised the gun toward her, the agony in her eyes as she realized what he was going to do.

_"I trusted you, Ric."_

The white peasant style dress she wore fluttered in the breeze around her ankles. He remembered helping her slip into it before leaving their room to make their way down to the small chapel. She hadn't wanted a bouquet but she had deserved something and as they passed the corner where the little boy stood next to the restaurant to sell his flowers to the tourists he had passed the eager child money and made his choice.  


_  
She didn't protest as he slipped the bold white gardenia behind her ear, then buried his fingers into the playful curls as their mouths met and moved together in a kiss so breathtaking it made the blood race like wild fire in his veins._

The weeks had moved fast as he worked to get her out of the country before Sonny realized. In that time the emotions she brought to life spiraled and burned into something he hadn't known he was capable of feeling. In those nights alone conspiring, she had found a man worth trusting and had opened her heart and forgiven. And loved.

"Ric is my brother," Sonny sneered arrogantly from his side, confident in his loyalty. "I told him to find you and kill you. I wasn't aware he would take things this far," he waved a hand to their surroundings, to the matching gold bands on their fingers. "But if it gets the job done, I have no problem with my little brother getting some ass on the side."

"And when you told me you loved me?" she murmured, a tear slipping from those soft brown eyes down the side of the cheek he had traced a finger down lovingly as he promised to love, to cherish. To forsake all others onto death. "Were those just words to you?"

"You were nothing more than a job."

The nasty reply from the brother he had come to love brought home just how foolish he had been. The man who had cooked his family Sunday dinner and laughed joyously as they all sat around the table eating was a mere shadow to the monster who could think he would so caustically pledge himself to a woman only kill her under orders.

He closed his eyes away from the bitter memory and went to the window in hopes the sunrise would calm the anguish. A bare arm braced against cool glass as his forehead bumped once. The choice he hadn't wanted to make and Sonny had forced him to make it.

And he had lost so much that day.

But as warm arms slipped around his waist and the loving familiar scent of vanilla and almonds filled his senses, he couldn't help but be grateful for everything he had found.

His love.

His family.

_Himself._

_Fin_


	12. Devil You Know

Hey, here is the next installment, well two actually. They will involve the two Zacchara siblings. They aren't in the same verse. Well, maybe if you squint really hard they could be

Hope you like

Rated: R  
Disclaimer: I don't own the GH characters, nor any themes taken from the Dark Series written by Christine Feehan

Plot and Week#7: The Riddle --crash, stay, remember  
Couple: Jason Morgan and Claudia Zacchara

* * *

_**Devil You Know**_

_**"I claim you as my lifemate. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care."—Carpathian ritual binding, Dark Series by Christine Feehan**_

Port Charles, New York  
October 1992

The first time death touched her, she was twelve years old.

Awkward and lonely, Claudia Zacchara sat in the back of her seventh grade class huddled down behind her desk as far as her lanky frame allowed and pretended to concentrate on the math quiz her teacher had handed out fifteen minutes before. She raised a thin hand to the center of her forehead to rub at the exhausting ache that had caused another embarrassing episode of clumsiness just after she climbed out of the family limo to enter the school building.

It wasn't the first of such headaches. Numerous doctor visits pronounced the shy girl with everything from anxiety to migraines but no one was ready to listen to the quiet but insistent claims that sometimes she just _"knew things."_

Today's pain was probably the worst she'd ever experienced. It was also different than any other, having steadily progressed over the past four days to the almost violent hammering of today. Normally, the ache marked something simple like she would trip over something in the cafeteria and fall making a mess of her uniform with her tray of lunch.

As much as she hated making a fool of herself in front of all of the other kids, it was better than the occasional insight on something her parents didn't want her to know about like the affair her father had with his secretary the year her stepmother was pregnant with her little brother.

Then there was the little glimpse where she watched her father smack her mother for daring to want to visit the daughter she was forced to leave behind, lifting the seemingly indestructible woman several inches into the air before she crashed into the cocktail table to shatter the smoky glass into pieces.

Or worse, another visit from the local authorities to arrest her father for having some other family murdered in their home for daring to cross him.

These images she had been forced to see from the day she turned six years old had carved a canyon of distance between her and the rest of her family. No one wanted the curious intensity of her mocha gaze turned in their direction. Her father wanted nothing to do with her, preferring to keep her locked in her bedroom whenever she wasn't in school or if he deigned the manor with his presence. Her stepmother came from an extremely Catholic family and any signs of the preternatural were automatically assumed to be evil.

After the last attempt which resulted in an extended hospital stay, her own mother decided her problem child wasn't worth the effort. The guards avoided her, the staff was too terrified of her father to go against his wishes. The only affection she ever received was from her younger brother John whose innocence had no need for barriers or worry.

Absently scribbling circles on her test sheet, she wondered what Johnny was doing this morning. He was still too young to attend school but his mother was teaching him his letters and numbers, how to read. A small smile touched her lips as she remembered how he ran into the kitchen the other afternoon, excited to show her the new word he had learned.

John had looked up at her with such joy it almost made up for the fact she had been swallowing several aspirin for the blinding vision of their father ordering some man's death because he had betrayed the Zacchara organization.

Then there was John's music. Despite his age, her little brother had a wonderful gift and despite everything, she knew one day he would turn that gift into freedom from the hell they endured.

She glanced up at the clock, realizing Johnny would have sat down at the black baby grand in the sitting room by now. Just for a moment, she promised herself and made sure no one was watching before closing her eyes. She concentrated on the ache this time instead of trying to push it away. Then allowed the memory of Johnny's music and how his small but talented fingers moved effortlessly over the ebony and ivory keys to bring forth melody to wash over her.

The glimpse of her little brother would be very fast but it would be more than enough to soothe the pain rushing through her head so she could get through the rest of the day.

Unfortunately light burst blindingly behind her eyes, the pencil in her fingers snapped piercing in her grip and what unfolded proved the horrible pain in her head would be equaled by the vision.

Dimly she could hear the kids in her class, a hand on her arm as her teacher asked if she was okay, voices rising, chairs scraping across the floor. When she fell backwards out of her chair and began convulsing, crimson spew across the white radiance in her mind and the screams of violence and death were given voice from her terrified throat.

_**

* * *

**_

Moher, Ireland  


October, 2008

It was everything her mind had shown it to be. Proving Claudia had been right to take the trip across the ocean despite the protests of her overbearing and controlling father. She was almost thirty years old damn it, the old man had kept to locked away from the real world most of her life. All she wanted was to see this place, just once, before going back into misery for the rest of her life.

As much as she tried to defy him, Anthony Zacchara's hold on her life was almost absolute. If he wanted, he could have her committed to a nice little padded cell in Shady Brooke for the rest of her life. Doctors had chronicled her 'episodes' for years and Daddy's little snake charmer lawyer, Trevor Lansing would happily convince a judge that she was mentally insane. Never mind the fact that her father was a murdering bastard who would hug you with a smile and stab you in the throat all in the same breath.

No, Daddy wanted her exactly where he put her, in the gilded cage of her bedroom suite away from the rest of the world with the knowledge that he had murdered his second wife kept secret forever.

She would never fall in love. She would never get married and she would never know how it felt to have a child of her own.

_"Let your evil die with you," _Anthony had sneered on her eighteenth birthday, when she had dared ask if she could move into her own apartment.

That's when the dreams started. Vivid beautiful dreams that could only be visions. Locked in her room she railed at the man who had sired her, the guards who helped keep her prisoner, the people who should have loved and cared for her but left her to rot, the world and all of its injustice. As she lay across the plain blue covered bed, eyes red and swollen and heart broken, she slipped into the deepest of dreams.

The grass was damp beneath her feet as she walked the edge of the cliff, her eyes trying desperately to see through the mist shrouding the vibrant land. Several feet below the ocean lay, waves lapping languidly against the shore as the sun set to bring forth the night.

Something was supposed to happen here. The feeling of destiny unfurled in her belly like a bloom reaching for the sky. It would change her and everything she knew and held dear to her heart. It would change her life and her very existence. This knowledge frightened her even as awareness became a wild humming deep within her body.

His silhouette was a darkened shadow within the haze. She knew him. Her hands would stretch wide in anticipation across the breadth of his shoulders, down the length of his sinewy back to his tapered waist. His closely shorn hair would feel like the finest of silk against her fingertips. And just when she was given the glimpse of his profile, the strong jaw, a hint of sensual mouth, she was torn away and thrust back into the reality of her cage.

For weeks she wondered if this was merely a wish her heart had made and her mind had granted. Each time she journeyed into this dream world, she was given the same images and yet the emotions grew sharper and more poignant. Except, there was no pain and that confused her to no end. How could this be a vision if there wasn't the usual staggering pain that accompanied them? Finally she grew desperate and resolved to find answers, if only for her own sanity.

Her search for answers led her ironically to Ireland, a place she had never even thought of visiting and given the threats her father made she couldn't help but wonder if it was worth all the trouble. The only reason Anthony even agreed was Johnny's final threat and her compliance to guards following.

Claudia glanced out onto the water, the ocean frothing as it crashed against the rocky coastline. She had checked into the small bed and breakfast this afternoon, deciding to take a walk before jetlag caught up to 

her. Though the sun was high in the sky, she knew this was the spot from her vision.

Now all she had to do was wait.

_**XXooXX**_

_"I give you my blessing, the love and thanks of our people, and may God go with you into the night, into your new land. You must embrace this land, make it your own, make it your home."+ _

Though many centuries had passed since Jason Morgan had heard those words from the Prince of his people, he had taken Vladimir Dubrinsky's words to heart and done his best to survive these many years with loyalty as his only companion. He was Carpathian. He could take to the skies in the form of a snow white owl. He could race across the land, a lone wolf with a shaggy black and white coat and ice blue eyes. He could dissolve into midst and fade into the night. He could call forth lighting to destroy his enemies.

And yet with all of these gifts, he was alone.

Alone in the shadowy grays of the world with no color and no emotions. A hunter of those who surrendered to the demon within them all. Vampire. He had sworn to honor the vow he took before leaving the comforting soil of his homeland and knew when the time finally came he would take his place in the sun and keep all those he protected safe from the monster he could become.

In the beginning like all young Carpathian males, he had searched for her and yet the mental call he had sent forth was met with silence. For only one thing could save him, could bring him back from the edge of death and desperation. Each year the warmth and joy of life he felt faded until he was left with only memory. With each kill, the radiant colors of the world faded and he grew colder until not even the whispers of his brethren from across time and distance could keep the demon inside at bay. None in all of his years had been the one piece of his soul. The light to his darkness.

He was utterly alone.

When he first arrived to this land, he had unconsciously resisted making it his home. Yet now this soil was almost as welcoming as his homeland. Though the faces changed over the years, the need to protect hadn't. He had built his resting place into the cliffs of Moher, where he had not only discovered a remarkable source of curative waters and dirt rich with healing properties but a wealth of magic that seemed inherent to the land itself.

At dawn when he walked the cliffs of his home the final time, he would seal them away along with the collection of books and artifacts he had collected over the years. Word would reach the new Prince of their people, Vladimir's son, and someone would come collect the items he had left behind and perhaps they would be able to help solve the difficulties their women faced giving birth and helping their young survive. One final service to his Prince.

He fed quickly, taking blood from his prey allowing the rich elixir to fill his mouth and the sun was already pressing heavily upon his consciousness telling him to take shelter or surrender to his fate. Retracting his fangs, he swiped his tongue across the punctures in the man's throat. Then he left the mental compulsion to never walk alone so late at night and to stay home with his family, before dissolving into the finest of mist and taking to the skies.

"It is an honorable death," he murmured, feeling the beast raging within him, knowing its fate. For one final time, he sent out his senses to make sure there were no vampires to walk these lands after he was gone and nodded once when the stench of death and madness was absent.  


What he hadn't expected was the tentative brush that tried to hold on but wasn't strong enough. It wasn't the path his people normally used for communication. No, this one was for- he closed his eyes unwilling to allow demon inside him to deceive him with this last desperate lie. He had long ago given up hope and it was his time to depart this world.

"I thought I would be the only one out here this early."

Awareness, arousal and vicious triumph filled him all at once. After centuries of feeling nothing, the emotions exploding through him tore at his carefully constructed control. Colors so long missing from his world bled bright and blindingly beautiful into existence.

How had she managed to get so close to him without him realizing?

Cerulean eyes absorbed everything about her. The beauty of the night paled against her radiance. He wanted to know how those sensuous full lips would feel moving against his. His fingers would caress the length of her jaw as he gazed with heated desire into those feline slanted eyes. He would imprint every inch of her body onto his soul.

Words he had never believed he would utter filled his mind and despite the desperation to claim what was rightfully his for the first time in all the years he had left his homeland, Jason Morgan felt at peace.

His lifemate.

_"I know you."_

_Fin_

+Quote taken from novella, _**Dark Dream **_by Christine Feehan


	13. His Girl Friday

Here is the next.

First let me say, this isn't a crossover between Smallville and GH, I just borrowed Chloe and changed her background a bit. So no Superman, no Clark and so on and so forth.

Hope you like

Rated: R  
Disclaimer: I don't own the GH characters, nor the one from the Smallville-verse, I just like writing about them

Plot and Week#8: Rivalry grab, wonder, year  
Couple: Johnny Zacchara and Chloe Sullivan

_**His Girl Friday**_

_**"Tell me. Is the Lord of the Universe in?" -- Hildy Johnson, from the motion picture His Girl Friday**_

"What on earth are you doing to that baby?"

Now ordinarily, Johnny Zacchara would have ignored the sarcastically feminine but definitely Australian accented voice because there was no way such a pointed question could be aimed in his direction. However, today was not an ordinary day. As a matter of fact, given the events that had occurred from the moment he climbed behind the wheel of his black Camero after leaving that mausoleum his father called home, today was probably the harbinger of the apocalypse.

The voice unfortunately was familiar. It had pursued him around Port Charles for the past six months with all the tenacity of a pit bull. Just imagine, if the PCPD had put as much effort in catching him in the act as Chloe Sullivan. The mob element in the city would, to borrow a phrase from Special Prosecutor Scott Baldwin, all be twiddling the thumbs up their asses in Sing-Sing without the possibility of parole.

Ms. Sullivan was definitely running after a story this afternoon. The dark brown pants, ankle boots and purple leather jacket were for comfort and ease as the intrepid report had a tendency of getting into difficult situations. He didn't doubt for one second that the backpack styled purse she wore slung over a shoulder held a camera, a recorder, her trusty cell phone and pencil and paper, along with those other female things women stuffed down in them. Tools of the trade she was never caught without.

Yesterday when he was at Metro Court and caught her leaving the Grill from lunch she had on one of her working girl outfits. The cute little black skirt that slipped sexy across a slim waist and agilely curved hips and a tan polka dot blouse complete with bow that he had found himself wanted to slip free and discover if what lay beneath matched those naughty fishnet stockings she wore.

Each one of her determined steps caused golden curls to bounce around her face and the dizzying smile she 

flashed in his direction promised that she hadn't forgotten about him. The smirk he sent her in return promised all kinds of payback.

They had a love/hate relationship. She loved to dig up all of his dirty secrets and he hated all the times he had lost control and shoved her into the nearest dark corner where they proceeded to kiss each other senseless.

He had nothing against reporters, other than the fact that each made it a life's goal to plaster his face and personal life across the pages of whatever publication they worked for. At this point, his skin was thick enough to handle it.

Yet, Sullivan seemed to have made his discomfort her personal crusade. The freelance journalist divided her time between the up and coming Crimson magazine, delivering witty and insightful commentary as a balance to the fashion rag and the Pulitzer Prize winning articles she wrote that cast a light onto people who otherwise hid in the shadows of the world. Yet somehow in between all of this the wildly inappropriate attraction existed.

From the moment she was introduced to PC society at the hands of her friend Jasper Jacks, their paths would cross when he was twisted into the most awkward of situations.

The squirming infant in his arms that was screaming bloody murder was by far the worst.

"What does it look like?" He snapped. Frustration and more than a tinge of anger made him short with the insistent journalist. He managed to grab and straighten the receiving blanket around the squirming baby, keeping it covered from the chill in the fall air coming off the water.

"I don't think you really want me to answer that one, Zacchara," the amusement in her voice and sparkling in those teasing hazel eyes managed to take the edge off most of his irritation. "So, the family's moving into-"

"Don't even finish that one, Sullivan," he cut her off, taking neither the insult to his family or the black market child adoptions lightly.

"Sorry," she bit the side of her lip, raising a shoulder sheepishly. There was no denying that his father's business was on the wrong side of the law but there were some things even Anthony Zacchara wouldn't sanction. Though not much. Threaten the children of a rival, certainly. Kidnap some other poor shmucks kid, he couldn't be bothered.

"So, I had no idea you had become a father recently. Have you been holding out on me?" Though her voice was light, he could see the hurt light in those expressive eyes of hers. While there wasn't a true relationship between them, it was pretty much a given that Chloe Sullivan didn't go around playing slap and tickle with a man who was involved with someone else.

Johnny glanced down at the blonde haired blue eyed infant in his arms, then back at Sullivan and raised a brow as well as the baby girl up for inspection, "What do you think?"

"Hey," she held up hands in defense, "We haven't seen Lesley Lu Spencer around for a few months. Last I heard the two of you were hard and heavy, even tried your own really sad version of Bonnie and Clyde back when Logan Hayes was murdered."

Lulu was currently seeking psychiatric help for the breakdown she suffered after stabbing Logan to death, so there was no way the kid in his arms could be a product of any union between the two of them. Besides, her older brothers had finally managed to convince her that big bad Johnny Zacchara was all wrong for her. The mobster in training with a life going nowhere wasn't good enough for the Laura clone.  


Not that he could blame them, for all intents and purposes, that's exactly the direction his life had been taking since his arrival in the small city. The melodramatic breakup scene that played out on the docks had left him strangely detached from the supposed love of his life. Not that he didn't care for Lulu, or even love her, but when she finally walked away it felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe.

Maybe it was seeing Lulu gradually fall apart that made him want to change but one morning he had gone to answer one of his father's many summonses and found that the last thing he wanted was to throw his life away following the maniac who had murdered his mother. It was a vow he had made before and certainly no one who knew him was buying his newest change of heart but he wasn't living his life for the nonbelievers. And definitely not for his father.

Currently he was attending PCU and deciding if he wanted to make a career with the music that had saved his sanity on more than one occasion. The only person who seemed to believe he might actually make this work was the very woman who kept his face plastered across the Port Charles Herald more often than Sonny Corinthos.

_"Keeping you honest," _she had murmured into his ear before nipping at the lobe making him groan and tighten the hands gripping at the hips clenched around his waist. That was the afternoon she had cornered him on campus coming out of the Dean of Music's office which resulted in a sweaty practice session on one of the University pianos that had nothing to do with Mozart.

"Lulu is currently involved with Milo Giambelli," he was happy to report, though it seemed his ex still had a thing for bad boys despite her brother's good intentions. "And this kid looks only a few weeks old, so I think I can say with absolute conviction that it's not mine."

"So if you aren't the proud Papa, then who is?" Just as quickly as the question was asked, the baby let loose another earsplitting squall of fury. Chloe rolled her eyes and reached for the baby. "Just give her to me."

Well, wonders never ceased. He never would have pegged Chloe Sullivan as the maternal type, but color him surprised when she tucked the squirming baby neatly at her shoulder with a hand carefully cradling her head that spoke of years of experience. "You have something you want to tell me?"

Carefully arched eyebrows drew together in question, then those expressive eyes widened as she put together the not quite serious accusation. "Of course not! I'm not married!"

"From what I understand of the birds and bees that my dear old psychotic father tried to impart, you don't have to be married to have a baby," his smirk held back a wealth of laughter. "As a matter of fact, some successful career women don't want to be tied down to a significant other but still want children."

"Well not me," she huffed, cheeks flushed with indignation. "I'm an old fashioned kind of girl. No babies without a husband and father who is a willing participant in the conception and child rearing responsibilities."

"I bet you're waiting for your wedding night to have sex for the first time too."

"I think we both know how untrue that little tidbit is." Her bright laughter made something warm unfurl in his gut. It was unrestrained and so much apart of the free spirited but highly intelligent report he had come to know. "Now stop being facetious. Seriously, Zacchara, this kid smells horrid. If you're not the proud father what on earth are you doing with her?"

"Found her in the alley of my apartment building when I was taking out the trash."

He hated spending the night at his father's house, much preferring the small loft secreted across town 

where no one would believe he lived. Anthony had insisted, using the dire need for protection once again. It was a tactic that wouldn't work forever.

"What!"

He nodded once sharing her fury. The disgust in her one word echoed how he had felt when he lifted the shrieking baby from the brown box just a short while ago. Whoever had left the child there meant for her to be found because she was left in plain view of the large dumpster, with her faded yellow blanket meant to catch the eye. It was only a matter of time until someone found her, yet he was grateful for the warmth still in the air from the remaining summer days for the child could have died of exposure or worse before she was found.

"No note, no food or changes of diapers. Nothing but a kid dumped in a box and the hope that someone would find her."

Chloe rocked the crying baby again, murmuring words of comfort before turning those seeking eyes back on him. "She's lucky you were there. See, I told you there's some small kernel of good behind that bad boy exterior."

"Not many people would agree with you," he reminded her.

"You are the poster boy for rebel without a cause after all."

She placed a small kiss to the baby's temple despite its filthy condition. Sensing the affection the kid finally quieted down to small hiccupping gasps as she nuzzled into Chloe's silken skin seeking the offered warmth. The tender smile Chloe turned on him caused a lot more than usual blood rush to his groin. It made his heart turn over.

"Not that there's anything wrong with you and the Jimmy Dean imitation but I'm glad it's not all that encompasses John Zacchara."

Chloe was the only one who saw all the complicated pieces of him. While Lulu had focused on the good and his one time fling with Maxie Jones had been all about the bad, Chloe understood that he wouldn't be complete without both. Damned if he had been expecting that.

"You look good like that."

"Really?" She raised a questioning brow, "You're not one of those Neanderthals that like to keep women barefoot and pregnant are you?"

"As if you'd stand for that," he shot back. "Speaking of your illustrious career, should I worry?"

"No," she didn't even bother denying that she as soon as she handed the baby back into his arms, she was going to run off to do some Sullivan sleuthing. "I got a tip the cops were making an arrest on the explosion at the Corinthos coffee warehouse last week."

"You should concentrate on Crimson. It would be safer all around."

"You worry about me, Johnny boy?" This time her smile was all mischief. "Isn't that sweet. Don't worry, I'm a big girl. I've been around the block a few times."

"That really makes me feel all better," was his sarcastic reply. "I'll just come inside with you. Besides I have a meeting in twenty minutes anyway."

"That's why you're standing out here in front of the police department? So you can turn her into the proper authorities?" She glanced down at the baby, the line of worry didn't quite disappear. "The system's so overcrowded, I wonder what they're going to do with her? I hate the thought of her getting swept into foster care."

"Child services are supposed to be meeting me down here. Besides, aren't most couples looking for babies to adopt, she shouldn't stay in the system too long."

Now that Chloe had mentioned it, he began to worry as well. He held the door open and allowed her to walk in before him making a mental promise to make sure the baby was placed in a good home.

Now in the best of circumstances, this little interlude with Chloe would have ended here with her rushing off to fulfill some deadline and embarrass her next victim. He should have known the fates would never be so kind to him. Finding himself surrounded by cops with weapons pointed in his direction and ordering him surrender really put the finishing touches on a rather crappy day. Chloe smirked and juggled the baby so that she could dig her camera out and snap a quick picture.

"Smile pretty for the birdy, Zacchara."

He could see the headlines in tomorrow's paper: _**Zacchara Arrested After Rescuing Child.**_

_Fin_


	14. These Dreams

This is short and sweet. Hope you like.

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Plot and Week 12: Transformation {faith, always, touch}

Couple: Jasper Jacks and Kelly Lee

_**These Dreams**_

_I dreamed of silence, of peace and stillness._

_As each moment of my life is oft times a race between life and death, moments of calm are few and far between. Birth raises emotions to their highest peak and I am there to shape and mold them, with all the skill I have cultivated and all the luck fate wills me._

_So long I have searched for contentment. _

_I dreamed of being held, of listening to your deep throbbing heartbeat against my back._

_My reality had become sparse moments of chaotic fumbling in the dark and all I ever wanted was this serenity I find in your arms._

_I feel the warm strength of your arm wrapped possessively across my waist. The touch of wide hands splayed across my stomach. Our bodies spooned together beneath a warm winter quilt._

_I listen to each breath as it fans across the back of my neck, your lips curve lovingly against my skin._

_I dreamed of your laughter and joy. Husky and sweet. Fingers that tickle. _

_An embrace, a look of happiness that can always be found with you._

_I dreamed of our kiss, so sweet as it slowly burns. A heartbeat skipped every time your blue eyes meet mine. _

"_Jax," I whisper as you slide under my skin. Into my heart. Become one with my soul._

_My stomach drops from the heat of dancing tongues. Desire for you spreads slowly through my loins to pool wet and wanting. Your touch burns longing across my skin. _

_Anywhere. _

_Everywhere. _

_Your body moves over mine, gently, impatiently, headily. So familiar and yet each time I learn something new, find a new plane of muscle to explore. Each time it's like coming home. _

_Feeling sensuous, I rub against the hardness of your body like a cat in contented cream. And I know the faith and love I placed in your hands is equaled to that which you entrusted to me._

_With you I dream no more._


End file.
